


The Final Order

by trisswrites



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Bloodplay, Choking, Death and Grief, Dominant Kylo Ren, Emperor Kylo Ren, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Force-Sensitive Reader, Forced Submission, Imperial Shenanigans, Knights of Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Lives, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren is a Mess, Leia Organa Lives, Naboo Lake Country (Star Wars), Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Possessive Kylo Ren, Post-Battle of Exegol, Princess! Reader, Reader-Insert, Rebellion, Rough Sex, Sadism, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Spies, Strip Searches, The Final Order, Torture, Toxic Relationships, Verbal Humiliation, Violent Sex, but they're new knights of ren because the real knights of ren are dea, continuation of TROS, for real this time, force and otherwise, i hate myself for loving you, i'm back bitch you can't get rid of me, kylo ren needs therapy, palpatine still dead tho, sith troopers, the final order wins the battle of exegol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 168,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trisswrites/pseuds/trisswrites
Summary: Darkness rules the galaxy. EMPEROR PALPATINE has been defeated by REY, the last hope of the Jedi. Unable to save her life, the fearsome KYLO REN returned to his ship, THE STEADFAST, as Emperor of the galaxy. For a year, there has been relative peace, as many have surrendered to the new FINAL ORDER.But whispers of new rebellion are brewing among the far reaches of the galaxy. To secure good relations with the new Empire, the Queen of the planet HAPES has offered her daughter, the Princess of the HAPES CONSORTIUM, to marry the new Emperor-though their true intentions may not be what they seem...Warnings:This is an explicit, smut-heavy fanfiction. Please do not read ahead if you're not comfortable with explicit content, or if the warnings below will be triggering to you in any way.**This is a reader-insert fic, but "Y/N" will not be used.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren & Reader, Kylo Ren & You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 282
Kudos: 488





	1. Opening Crawl

**Summary:**

Darkness rules the galaxy. EMPEROR PALPATINE has been defeated by REY, the last hope of the Jedi. Unable to save her life, the fearsome KYLO REN returned to his ship, THE STEADFAST, as Emperor of the galaxy. For a year, there has been relative peace, as many have surrendered to the new FINAL ORDER.

But whispers of new rebellion are brewing among the far reaches of the galaxy. To secure good relations with the new Empire, the Queen of the planet HAPES has offered her daughter, the Princess of the HAPES CONSORTIUM, to marry the new Emperor—though their true intentions may not be what they seem...

 ** _Warnings_** :

This is an explicit, smut-heavy fanfiction. Please do not read ahead if you're not comfortable with explicit content, or if the warnings below will be triggering to you in any way.

I want to clarify right off the bat that this work will not be an accurate and healthy portrayal of BDSM. So before we all comment "no safeword/aftercare? *skull emoji*" please remember that the purpose of this work is to tell a story about Kylo Ren, who I would argue is not necessarily mentally stable enough to be a proponent of safe and 100% consensual BDSM. This work is for anyone who wants to explore their ~dark side~ and I intend for it to be a safe and judgment-free zone.

His actions in this fic will be territorial, possessive, and at times, violating. This fic will not portray r*pe or overt sexual assault. If that changes, I will post updates here, as well as a warning at the top of that chapter. Taking a leaf out of Luna-auctor's book and posting some resources below to help you ensure you are practicing safe and healthy behaviors in your real lives, and how to get help if you're not.

To put it concisely, I am a staunch feminist in the streets, and I like to be degraded in the sheets. That will be evident in this work.

Specific warnings are listed below, and this time around, I will be posting specific warnings with each chapter.

WARNINGS: rough sex, light voyeurism, strip searches, violation, bloodplay, attempted murder, erotic slapping, physical harm, violent sex, choking (force and otherwise,) dubious consent, bloodplay probably at some point, sadism, toxic relationships, hate-sex, verbal humiliation, forced submission, death and grief; more to be added. Every day I get farther away from God.

 **Resources** :

www.bound-together.net/bdsm-resources/

www.rainn.org

www.thehotline.org

**This is a reader-insert fic, but "Y/N" will not be used.

***The Final Order is a sequel to Rise of Skywalker with the following canon-divergence:

-Rey defeated Palpatine

-Rey was not Force-revived

-The rebels lost the Battle of Exegol

-The Steadfast survived the Battle of Exegol

-Leia Lives

**The Final Order welcomes you.**

**10/12/2020.**


	2. How We Forge Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day the new order's banners unfurled over the battlements of the Fountain Palace set a new precedent for the Hapans, and for anyone still left in the scattered cosmos.
> 
> There was no hope. There was no rebellion. There was no future.
> 
> Only the darkness of the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am feeding the rats early in hopes of feeling a shred of serotonin. We call this controlling what you can when things feel out of control. Stay safe out there babes. Please take care of each other and wear your mask.
> 
> Edit: so to clarify because I realize I am an idiot, the Knights of Ren in this fic will be a new group of guys since Kylo killed them in TROS.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

"This isn't going to work. They're all going to see right through your little plan, and you're going to end up dead."

Kandria's voice went in one ear and out the other, but the sound of it still irritated you. With one eye clamped shut and your blaster cocked and aimed, you struggled to keep your grip steady, and cursed under your breath. A shot in the dark, then. You pulled the trigger, and with a satisfying "pew," the empty bottle on the log in the distance exploded, broken shards scattering the forest floor. Suddenly, you were met with the scent of burning glass.

"You know, that blaster could give us away. You couldn't have brought a crossbow?"

You gave Kandria a look. "Can you at least try not to be so dramatic? For once?"

"You know if we're caught, we're both kriffed, right?"

"Yes, Kandria, I'm well aware, but thank you for reminding me for the fourteenth time."

Getting caught wasn't an option. If you were caught leaving the castle, Gods only knew what punishment would be in store for you. You had a duty—and that duty was within the walls of the Fountain Palace, close to the Queen Mother's side at nearly all times of the waking day.

But you'd also decided that you were allowed a shred of fun, now and again.

"Go place the next bottle."

"We already know you aren't going to miss."

"I have to practice!"

"You don't get enough in your training?" She demanded, cocking a brow.

"No! I have to get better than Evander and Jodah. Teach them to hide another dead hawk-bat under my pillow." You shuddered at the grisly memory—and a very mean prank.

"Your little revenge party isn't my problem."

"You didn't have to come!" You argued, furious.

"Actually, I did, because the responsibility of keeping your stupid life under control has become my responsibility."

"Lighten up, Kandria," you laughed, aiming your blaster at a lantern that hung in the tree, one of many to light the way for wanderers who may find themselves in the forest at night—not unlike yourself. You closed your eye, and set your mark. You barely breathed when you spoke, your body still as a convor sleeping on a branch. "Once we see the looks on their faces when I finally best them, it'll all be worth it."

Blast.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

In the early days, risking your neck to sneak out of the castle had been fun, though you were well aware of the dangers. Leaving, even if just for a while, was seen as a little rebellion in itself. Which was ironic, given the actual rebellion unraveling into all the reaches of the galaxy at the very same time.

But you were a little rebellion, too, wrapped up into a person.

The days of the First Order provided something that made it all worth it—living for the risk. Back in those days, there was still hope. There was war, and there was fear with every step. You spent your free time watching the skies, pondering the possibility of a resurgence of Starkiller, or perhaps a newer, more sophisticated laser. After what happened to the Hosnian system, there was a constant wonder if Hapes was next. It was unlikely; Hapes was neutral, and not a threat to the First Order. But even so, that small amount of mortal fear informed every mortal step you took, drove you to live out the rest of your days to the fullest, however short or long that time may have been.

And then the First Order won the war. And everything changed.

You no longer left the palace after dark. No one ever went anywhere alone. The risk wasn't worth it anymore, nor did it bring you any joy. Nothing brought you any joy—even a mere shred of it. At least before, if you'd have gone out, you would have either gone out fighting, or in a flash of painless heat, blown into nonexistence before you even knew the laser had penetrated your planet.

The day the new order's banners unfurled over the battlements of the Fountain Palace set a new precedent for the Hapans, and for anyone still left in the scattered cosmos.

There was no hope. There was no rebellion. There was no future.

Only the darkness of the present.

Hapes was no longer an independent Consortium. It was a slave to the new order—the Final Order.

And you supposed it wasn't darkness—that wasn't completely accurate. Hapes didn't know true night; the nebulae surrounding the Hapes System was so luminescent that the cosmos shined bright around Hapes at all times. Nighttime was just as bright as daytime. It damned your night-vision to hell, though, and you were hopeless in a dim, windowless room.

Another indication you wouldn't last long—not where you were going.

As expected, you had to squint as the guards lead you down the corridor that lead from the hangar. The doors thudded to a close behind you; you heard the unmistakable hissing of air forcing through the cracks, and immediately, you felt a longing for the stars. They, at least, could provide even a sliver of light. You didn't have to stare into the long-stretching corridor ahead of you to know that it was as dark as it was cold. Everything seemed to be made out of metal. Everything.

"Are you alright, Your Highness?"

You smirked at the 'trooper who addressed you, and put in half an effort to pass it off as a good-natured smile. They had been instructed to treat you well. You wondered you had given the order. You would find out in time. Already you were racking up little hints—they had kept you in a close guard on the transport. Searched you on the hangar. You weren't even given privacy in your own quarters. The trust the Order had for you was thin and wavering. That much was to be expected; the Final Order hadn't been in power for much over a year. As much as they liked to show off their arms, everyone knew they were in their infancy. That was a fact they couldn't deny. But they were trying to bury it, nonetheless; the repairs to the Steadfast had been spared no expense, and you supposed their best bet was to try and make sure that people simply forgot that they'd been nearly decimated by the rebels at Exegol. 

And they hadn't sent a diplomat to meet you at the hangar. A subtle nod of disrespect, but an unmissable one.

You exhaled calmly, giving the 'trooper a nod. "Trust me, you don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine."

Flanked by 'troopers off of every corner of your body, you weren't sure if you should feel like an esteemed guest or a prisoner. But you supposed if you were a prisoner you'd be strapped to a table in a dungeon somewhere. Given what you'd heard of the Emperor, you were sure that outcome wasn't off the table. You rolled back your shoulders like you could roll off the nerves. You didn't like the darkness, or the coldness, or the metal. Your eyes were still adjusting to light, or lack thereof. Back home in Hapes, much of the castle was constructed to be half indoors and half in nature. If the room wasn't built to be open air, then the windows spanned up to twenty feet. No matter what wing or what room you stood in, there was always a view of the rocky cliffs that bolstered the city, or the trees that lined the distance.

The Steadfast felt like a prison.

A gilded, chrome, sterile, unfeeling prison—especially for you.

And now it was home.

For the time being.

"Ah. Your Highness."

You piqued at the sound of your title.

Rounding the corner was General Pryde. You recognized him from a hologram conference or two. The Queen Mother had done most, if not all, of the negotiating. You were privy to only a handful of glances, which was only thanks to your unladylike skill of sneaking about. You'd been permitted to speak with the man only once, and he was the highest-ranking member of the Order you'd so much as shared a word with. No other officers or rulers had so much as asked to make your acquaintance prior to your arrival.

Not even your future husband.

"Pryde," you responded. And then—right. Yes. Titles. _Even_ these _people have them_. "General Pryde."

"You're looking as radiant as ever."

Swallowing back the bile rising to your throat, you thought you were able to force something akin to a smile.

With a wave of Pryde's hand, the 'troopers continued down the hall. You raised your brows in surprise.

"I thought we'd begin immediately."

"Certainly."

Ever the gentleman, Pryde gestured to the opening on your right. You stepped through it, heard Pryde follow close behind you, and then once again, the sound of blast doors hissing shut.

You stood in an equally-dimly lit conference room. To make things more difficult on you, every furnishing in the room was shiny and black—darkness reflecting more darkness. You rubbed your eyes, lowering yourself into the closest chair you could find.

"Are you suffering from a headache, Highness? Should I send for a physician?"

You bit back a groan; something about the man was so condescending.

"There won't be any need for that. I'm afraid the Fountain Palace gets loads of natural light. My eyes are just having trouble adjusting," you explained, gesturing to all the nothingness that surrounded you.

"Must be quite an adjustment for you indeed."

"It's nothing."

"How is your mother faring?"

"She is well. She rules with a steady fist in the name of the Final Order."

"And your people?"

You gave the general a tight smile. "I believe they could even be considered happy, all things considered. The Emperor's grace has ensured my people are well. They are glad there is finally peace, and the fighting is done."

"Not glad of the outcome, then?"

You narrowed your eyes as Pryde scanned you over. You'd heard he was an esteemed man, but he wasn't much of an actor, which, as far as you understood about Imperial authority figures, may as well have been half of his job. An exterior of kindness and an overabundance of distrust. He wore his aversion to you like he wore his jacket, or his funny little hat. You weren't sure what he expected you to tell him. You were here because you were told to be—not because you wanted it.

"We proudly serve the Order," you told him, trying to swallow back the bitterness that was threatening to spill out of your mouth along with the words. "As we have for the past year." Isn't that enough?

He nodded—approval? You could only hope.

"Only one thing to address," he said, drawing the word out, not unlike a kriffing snake. You winced at the heinousness of his voice. "The first of which is the matter of the end of your Hapes Consortium after the marriage is put into effect."

You tried not to narrow your eyes. Any further, and they'd be reduced to little slits. "You're mistaken, General Pryde. Per the agreement between the Emperor and my mother, the Queen, the Consortium will not be dissolved under this marriage."

"It will not be dissolved, I assure you. But the Queen Mother will no longer have authoritative rule over Hapes and its people. The Emperor of the galaxy will. And the Consortium will lead as his emissaries."

You pursed your lips, chewing on the insides of your cheeks. "I am the Chume'da. The heir to my mother's throne," you reminded him. As if he needed it. "You can imagine how this little revelation is a bit distressing for me."

Ever a cocky piece of shit, Pryde tilted his head to the side. You fought the urge to lunge forward and wring his neck. "The purpose of this marriage is to bind the Hapes Consortium and the Final Order. I'm not sure what other outcome you expected, your Highness; the position of Chume'da is no longer recognized in the eyes of the Final Order."

"And what does that make me, then?" You asked, unable to keep yourself from snapping at the vile man. "If I'm not the heir to my own planet, then what am I?"

It was Pryde's turn to narrow his eyes. He oozed with mistrust. "The Empress, your Highness."

You sucked in the insides of your cheeks, looking down towards the hands that were wringing in your lap.

Oh, yeah. That. Empress. Right.

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself realize you'd misspoken. You weren't here to negotiate. The talks were over, and you were to marry the Emperor. Negotiations be damned; the Order would do whatever it wanted, adjust the arrangement however it saw fit. None of it mattered.

Because all of this was temporary.

"I understand you are rather young," he began.

_Oh, Kriff, here we go._

"But I do think it's of the upmost importance that you understand the reality of your...situation." Immediately, you felt ill. "You are a guest here on the Steadfast, and you will remain a guest until we reach our station in Naboo. The thing about being a guest is that you're still an outsider." His voice was slippery and sharp and so condescending it was actually painful to endure. "Until you prove your loyalty to the Emperor and his Order, you will remain just that. A guest." The word "guest" was starting to sound a little threatening.

"You will not be permitted to carry a weapon at any time. You will remain in your quarters unless you have authorization to leave them, and you will be escorted by officers at all times."

"And who's to give that authorization?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said I'll need authorization to leave. Specifically, who are you referring to? The overlords?" You scoffed, gesturing wildly. "I wasn't planning on spending my trip to Naboo locked up like a Fathier, so I'd like to know whom I'm to seek said 'authorization' from."

Pryde blinked. "The Emperor, your Highness."

"Ah," you scoffed. "Right. I'll just pop in on him, then. I'm sure it won't be a problem."

Pryde gave a little scoff. It was a strange thing to witness—his attempt at a laugh, you suppose. It jerked his whole body and the noise that escaped his throat was completely humorless. As if to say "good fucking luck."

"Apologies, General, but you trust me enough to marry your Emperor, but not to leave my own quarters. I know you want to keep me on a tight leash for now, but you can't expect to go building good relations if you have no respect for anyone previously unaffiliated with the Orders."

"You seem to have the wrong idea about how we forge our alliances, Highness."

You cast your gaze to the side to try and hide the grimace that was crumbling your face. _Believe me_ , you thought. _I don't_.

Pryde was more than delighted to end your conversation before you were satisfied, giving you only bad news and no silver lining. You hadn't been aware that they were ending the matriarchal line of the Consortium. It was one of the many unique things about your way of life—a monarchy in which _women_ ruled. It was the aspect of your home planet you were most proud of. The honor of your life. Thousands of years of history, and a monumental achievement.

And the Emperor was throwing it out the reactor shaft.

Following Pryde down the corridor wasn't a matter of choice. Bitter, you stayed silent, assuming he was taking you to your quarters to rest. Isn't that what sad, little men like him thought women needed all the time? Rest, rest, and more rest? Rest after a grueling conversation? Rest, after traveling wherein all you had to do was rest? You were ready to start snapping necks. Regrettably, that wasn't an option. Yet.

But when he stopped outside of a double set of blaster doors, you noticed something didn't feel right. They were fifteen feet tall and jet black. Surely they wouldn't have arranged for your chambers to be so...regal.

Shifting, you realized an unsettling feeling had begun to bloom in your gut.

"What's this?"

"The throne room," he laughed, apparently very amused.

"I-no. Please, I-I didn't think I'd be meeting him right away. I'd like to rest, if that's alright."

Pryde inspected you very closely, lips tightly pressed together into a thin smirk as his eyes glazed over your frame.

"He doesn't like to be kept waiting," he said in a low voice.

You didn't dare raise your gaze to the center of the room once the blast doors opened and you were all but forced inside. You knew who would be there. And you didn't feel ready. No, you preferred to take in your surroundings as you passed them, keeping your gaze low and sweeping, taking inventory as you walked through the enormous throne room. You kept your eyes down, but could tell by the way the black, glass flooring reflected the walls, that they were a blinding red. Maybe the Emperor had painted them with the blood of the fallen resistance fighters.

You swallowed down the thought.

Glancing out of the corners of your eyes, you did a sweep at the guards that you passed. There were Sith Troopers. Angular, doused in red, and imposing. Unwavering loyalists and dangerous creatures. But you could see others, too. Black-clad and stoic and imposing. Each held a different weapon, and each one was more imposing than the last. You only caught a handful of them, trying to focus on your other surroundings. 

The Knights of Ren, you realized, and gulped down your fear.

As you approached the throne, elevated on an enormous platform, you knew you couldn't keep your head down forever. Pryde was watching you. The creature in the chair was watching you. You were being tested, evaluated at every moment. You remembered your meditation. Months of grueling training. Some said the Emperor could read minds. You'd prepared for this as best you could. You fought to keep your thoughts blank and empty.

 _I will not fail_ , the same words you'd told the Queen Mother. The same words you'd whispered to yourself over and over and over again on the transport. _I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not-_

You halted only when Pryde did. And before you were ready, the moment was upon you.

"Your Imperial Majesty." Pryde's infuriating, smug voice once again. "It is my delight to present to you the Princess of the Hapes Consortium, daughter of the Queen Mother, and _former_ Chume'da." He emphasized the word. Kriff, you hated the man. "She has traveled from the far reaches of Inner Rim, and she is honored to accompany your Imperial Majesty to Naboo."

Pryde stopped speaking. And therein lied your cue. Inhaling as you rose your gaze, you steadied yourself as your eyes fell upon the Emperor for the first time.

Emperor Kylo Ren.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I am a slave to the aesthetics, here is the dress you wore to meet the Emperor: Zuhair Murad SS20 look 033.


	3. The Girl I've Heard So Much About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was nothing but silence from him for a crushing moment. He’d stopped in his tracks, hands plastered behind his back. But then, he turned his head over his shoulder, regarding you with little to no care. “You will learn quickly that it would not do well for you to forget your place on my ship. You are nothing but an outsider. Your loyalties will be judged in due time, and if you are deemed worthy, you will be permitted to stay, and our deal will be fulfilled. It would be wise to consider your performance, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I will be taking a hiatus of about 10 days or so to enjoy my time with my family. I know that's a long time but it is very much needed. See you guys soon! 
> 
> Warning: this chapter includes a forced strip-search. Please don't read if that sort of thing bothers or triggers you in any way.

He was taller than you'd expected. Even sitting down, he had at least a few inches on everyone else in the room—you could tell. You'd heard rumors that he was a titan. That he never took off his mask because it was a part of his skin. Titan was starting to sound pretty spot-on. 

But he looked twice as imposing as one—sitting on his obsidian throne, an arm on either rest, legs spread slightly, feet firm on the ground. The seat was situated on a sort of platform, a set of black, stone steps descending directly downwards to land upon the rest of the room. To land upon you, if he chose to make the journey.

It appeared he did. You stopped breathing as the giant monster stood. Finally, you caught the full splendor of his outrageous height. He had to be nearly six and a half feet. You weren't sure you'd ever seen another man so tall.

And so dark.

"So this is the girl I've heard so much about." It was the first time you heard his voice. It wasn't human. You shuddered at the effects of the vocoder.

Unable to stop yourself, you swallowed thickly, nearly choking on your own spit. Kylo Ren was approaching you, and he'd gone silent. His steps were long and slow and commanding, arms placed behind his back in an "at-ease" sort of position. You supposed he'd been a commander, before all of this. A military man. Now...

Now, you didn't know _what_ kind of man he was—if he was a man at all. But you were quite sure you didn't want to find out.

He seemed to carry darkness as he moved. Slowly, he descended the steps. His robes fluttered just barely. Black from head to toe, the Emperor didn't say a word. Only when a few feet lied in between you and him, could you make out the blood-red veins that coursed jaggedly through his helmet. 

Like scars.

He stopped leaving only a few inches between your bodies. You felt the unmistakable impulse to take a step back, but refused to retreat. It left him uncomfortably close to you. But you weren't about to show him any weakness.

Your only wish was to get a shred of indication as to how your actions were taken. But you couldn't. When you stared up at his face, all you saw was cold, lifeless metal. So desolate, you weren't even sure there was a man behind the mask. 

Watching him take you in, his head moving up and down as he scanned the length of your body twice over, you were rigid. Nervous. Uncomfortable. You couldn't sense a shred of life beneath his mask. With the cowl that hung over his helmet, he seemed more like a reaper. You were sure he could sense your hesitancy, but you refused to give him any more satisfaction than that.

Or so you thought.

As Kylo passed behind you, as if inspecting you, everything was still and calm—for a moment. For a moment, you thought he was pleased. Not that you fucking cared in the slightest if he liked what he saw, but you needed his trust, his approval, for a different reason. For a moment, you had hope. And then—a tugging sensation, something jerking you backwards, and the unmistakable sound of fabric ripping.

Suddenly, your shoulders were free of your cape, and you were catching yourself on stumbling legs, tumbling backwards and only barely keeping yourself from toppling over altogether. Your heels scraped unpleasantly against the slick stone floor as you battled gravity. The forcefulness of the motion was indicated by the fact that that cape wasn't supposed to separate from the dress. You heard a jewel or two clatter to the floor. Looking down to examine yourself, you clenched your teeth at the sudden bareness of your shoulders and arms. Your chest was now only made modest by the jewels that compiled the bodice. You eyed the golden belt affixed at your waist—bearing the golden symbol of the old Empire. You thought it would be a nod of respect. Ren didn't seem pleased. At least the skirt was still functioning. Still, you felt more exposed than you'd intended to be. And the shredding away of your clothing was nothing short of a violation.

"I seem to recall that I ordered her to be searched." The Emperor tore away from you to land in front of General Pryde, fisting the fabric of your cape in his gloved hand.

"She was, your Excellency. As soon as she stepped onto the hangar," answered Pryde quickly. How could you have forgotten? 'Trooper hands had run over and over your hips even after they'd removed your blaster. "She is a beauty, is she not?" Pryde stammered, forcing a smile.

The Emperor made what you could only describe as a grumbling of disapproval as he continued to stalk you, staring you down as he spoke. "If you'd done it well, she wouldn't have waltzed into my courtroom looking so unruffled," he growled, ignoring Pryde's bait. "Knights. Search her."

With that, the Emperor turned on his heel, tossing the bundle of blue fabric to the side. In the same instant, you sensed one of the Knights start in your direction. But the Emperor didn't take two steps before, once again, you crossed a line not meant for you. "Wait," you blurted.

Kylo Ren stopped in his tracks, colossal back facing you, his cape a sea of darkness. Slowly, ominously, he turned around. The mask was unfeeling, but now, you could finally get a read on him, at least. He was furious. And you didn't need to see his face to know—you could feel it.

"I won't be subjected to a strip-search at the hands of your minions," you told him, lifting your chin. "If you want it done a certain way, do it yourself."

Thus far, your respect for Emperor Ren hadn't been completely obliterated for the sole fact that he hadn't gone full-on murderous dictator mode when the Order assumed power. There was no needless slaughter after the war. He ruled with somewhat of a level-head, though you and everyone you knew were waiting for the day he'd finally snap. But there was no respect, no intrigue as you watched him round on you—slowly. Horrified, you stared up at him, not even attempting to quiet the loud expression on your face.

Though he wasn't a completely vile ruler, you, and everyone else, knew what Kylo Ren boiled down to in a word:

Unhinged.

Tales of his suspiciously controlled nature plunging into chaos at the slightest inconvenience were no secret across all the stretches of the galaxy. Your eyes darted to the lightsaber in his holster. You wondered if he was about to unhinge before your very eyes. It would be the last thing you'd ever see. And of course, you hadn't planned for an untimely death in the throne room. Because the bastard was suppose to like you.

With a single step, Kylo Ren closed the distance between your bodies once again.

You had the immediate sense you'd spoken out of turn. He said nothing—simply took you in. Silently. But the fact that he was being silent, hadn't punished you in one way or another for your insolence, was actually concerning. It left you afraid of what was to come. 

You didn't have to wait long. 

His hands darted to your collar, and with a single motion, your gown ripped down the front and crumpled to your feet. You shuddered at the sudden gust of frigid air, fighting the instinct to cover your scantily clad chest, but you didn't want to give the monster even a shred of satisfaction. Your eyes darted to examine your own body to ensure your shift was intact. Your only solace was the thin, satin, champagne-colored slip that hung loose around your middle but hugged your hips and thighs. It would have been enough coverage for you to wear around close friends or family.

But you were in a throne room full of strange men, each one seemingly hellbent on your failure. And before you gathered the strength to meet the Emperor's gaze again, you came to the conclusion that this wasn't about searching you. 

This was about humiliating you.

If it was possible, Kylo closed in on you even further, until your chests were nearly touching. You tried to swallow and almost choked instead. Suddenly, your throat felt like a particularly dry day in Jakku.

Stabilizing yourself as best you could, you forced your gaze to find the lifeless, empty mask, boring into where you knew his eyes would be, if there was really a human underneath at all. And he gave you nothing. Not a word. Not even a whisper. No indication that the violation he was committing against you made him feel anything at all.

Your breath hitched when his gloved fingers glazed your thigh, and he began to draw them upward. You held the air tight within your lungs, and the leather creaked against your skin. His hand moved upwards—

Until he reached your garter holster.

He lifted his head. Your lungs were screaming for air, but you couldn't relieve them. 

"It's empty," you explained, struggling to keep your voice steady, but somehow managing a half-decent job. "My gun and knife were taken in the hangar, as General Pryde told you. And I never intended to use them, or conceal them. It's just a practical way for Hapans to carry our gear."

The Emperor "hummed" in response. The sound was breathy and low.

As if deciding what to do with the girl with the dagger holster, he stood there staring at you, and you could almost feel the air grow dense and hot. After a crushing silence, he threw himself away from you, continuing the slow, lazy circles around your body. Entirely like a predator. Entirely like a monster.

Your eyes flickered towards General Pryde as the Emperor crossed behind your body, silently begging for some direction, the slightest instruction, the subtlest indication of what to do to get this guy to stand back. But he only held your gaze for a moment, before his eyes darted back to floor, decidedly away from you. 

Fucking coward.

By the time Pryde had looked away, taking nervous, heavy breaths, Ren landed in front of you once again. You jolted as you were met with the haunting image of his mask—inches from your face. Leaning in towards you.

"Open your mouth."

You couldn't stop the bewildered, unladylike expression that splintered onto your features. "Excuse me?"

Again, he seemed to draw himself closer. It was all you could do not to take a step back. The small of your back was screaming in pain as you hitched yourself away from him as much as you could without actually moving your feet.

"I said _open. Your. Mouth_."

Reeling with confusion, you just stared at him, mouth slightly agape, brows drawn, lines of confusion threaded onto your forehead. "What the hell are you talking ab-"

But you weren't able to finish. In the same instant, one of Kylo's large, leather-clad hands were grasping your jaw. The second raised in front of your face. Your eyes widened as they fell on two of his fingers, pointing upwards, jutting from his taut fist. Understanding hit you hard, and you couldn't clamp your mouth shut in time to block out the fingers that slipped in between your lips.

You gargled around the intrusion, the muscles fluttering in the back of your throat, a slight warning. You could do nothing but stare in at him in horror and confusion as the pads of his gloved fingers slid underneath your tongue. You knew that tiny weapons, like needles or capsules of poison, could be transported under the tongue or along the gums, but a search like that shouldn't last more than a couple of seconds.

So why was this taking an eternity? Why were his fingers slipping back further? Your pulse skyrocketed as the slid up the grove of the underside of your tongue, gradually encroaching on your throat...

Before your panic could grow full-fledged, Kylo snatched his hand from your mouth and stalked away. You gasped as your throat opened, and felt a dribble of drool on your chin. Fully humiliated, you wiped it away on the back of your hand. Your skin was icy cold.

"Did you want to check my hair for tiny little pins I might be able to stick you with?" You growled. 

There was nothing but silence from him for a crushing moment. He'd stopped in his tracks, hands plastered behind his back. But then, he turned his head over his shoulder, regarding you with little to no care. "You will learn quickly that it would not do well for you to forget your place on my ship. You are nothing but an outsider. Your loyalties will be judged in due time, and if you are deemed worthy, you will be permitted to stay, and our deal will be fulfilled. It would be wise to consider your performance, Princess."

 _Princess_.

Your jaw went slack with rage. What did he mean 'if?' The deal was set. You were to be married, and hadn't agreed to a test-run. If that threat was genuine, the only alternative to the deal was...death. _Your_ death.

You took a furious step forward, but didn't dare to go farther than that. You wanted to rip him apart. But there was a time and a place. In the throne room, only just after you'd met, having learned virtually nothing about the Order, surrounded by his guard—well, that was neither the time nor the place.

Thank the Gods he didn't allow you to speak, because you likely would have earned yourself an ejection straight into space. Before you could even formulate a thought, Kylo Ren spoke again, this time, stalking back towards his black throne.

"Let this be a lesson to you should you ever seek to enter my throne room without abiding by protocol again."

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

You were escorted to your quarters feeling as confused as you were angry. On one hand, you were already mulling over the options of how you could kill him in his sleep. But in all honesty, on the other, you were stunned and winded with shock. Bewildered, and unsure if everything that unfolded in that throne room had been some sick, twisted fever dream.

The only sounds you could identify were the clacking of your heels against the sleek, charcoal-colored floor of the Steadfast, and your own breath heaving in your ears. Stormtroopers watched you as you passed—flanked by other Stormtroopers escorting you to your room—and you lifted your chin in defiance. You were being strutted around the Steadfast in nothing but a pale-yellow slip that didn't even fall below the middle of your thighs. They kept the AC on full blast, likely to keep all the creatures in suits and helmets cool. You, on the other hand, were prickled with gooseflesh, teeth clattering together. 

But you weren't sure if that was from the cold, or from the anger.

A part of you had been wondering if you'd be sharing your quarters with the Emperor. What a stupid thought that had been. And the question was answered pretty quickly—you were being taken to a private suite. Smaller than the Emperor's, and much more modest. You weren't the Empress yet. But you didn't care about your meager accommodations. Princess or not, you'd been raised during a war. You were a capable fighter, had traveled, had lived every day of your life in fear not seeing tomorrow. Dirt didn't scare you. Men with weapons didn't scare you. Blood didn't scare you.

Meager accommodations didn't scare you either. You weren't so airheaded to forget what was really at stake.

When they delivered you to your room, a 'trooper said something to you, or at least, he might've. You didn't process it. All you could hear was the blast doors shutting behind them as they left, and suddenly, you realized you were standing in the middle of a tiny studio apartment. Grateful to be alone, though you knew they were guarding your doors. To keep anyone from getting in.

To keep you from getting out.

You tried to take a steadying breath, closing your eyes, centering yourself. As enraged as you were, you couldn't let him unravel you. _He will try and penetrate your mind_ , the Queen Mother had said. _You must stand ready. You must be stronger_.

You lifted your gaze and left it drift across the room. Well, it was clear that they didn't want you to be too comfortable, but that they were still treating you as the woman who was to potentially be the Empress. Not too small, but certainly not too big. Not lacking for anything but not housing any great comforts, either. Immediately you set to work memorizing your surroundings; it wasn't the furnishings or the lack of luxuries you were worried about. 

No windows. Only one door, save for the one to the refresher. There was a queen-sized bed, a small table and chairs, and a tiny kitchenette tucked against the back wall. A small, grey loveseat sat near the entrance to the refresher. Along the same wall was a built-in shelf, housing a few books. Propaganda, most likely. Notably, there was no datapad. There was, however, a screen. At least it would provide some form of entertainment. A holodrama or some music, perhaps. A tap on the surface, and you realized there was also an option to call for a guard, or for an attendant. 

And then, you saw, tucked against the wall—a droid.

At first, your heart leapt with excitement. But just has your blood had grown warm, your mind thwarted your enthusiasm.

It was nothing but a servant droid—you'd recognize those stupid rabbit ears anywhere. It would likely sweep your floors and do little else. You sighed heavily. Even if it did have communication capabilities, which it certainly didn't, that wouldn't be of much use to you. 

You cursed, staring at the droid until its sight became frustrating. Holograms could be intercepted, or even played back. You wouldn't have been receiving any messaging that could be traced through the Order's technology. No, you were to wait for handwritten notes from back home. You didn't know how they would be arriving to you. You just had to hold onto hope that the Resistance would work out the kinks.

No blaster. No blades. Not a single way to contact or report to anyone back home. Weapons gone—even the knife you'd tried to hide.

How you were supposed to fulfill your purpose, you didn't know.

Your purpose—to spy on the Final Order.

And then to kill the Emperor.


	4. Against My Better Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You aren’t much like a princess, are you?” He asked. 
> 
> Your only response was a grunt as you continued to try to free yourself. You were giving it all you had, and Ren wasn’t even breaking a sweat as he held you in place. 
> 
> “Sorry to disappoint,” you growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incapable of taking a vacation. Enjoy, you guys. No warnings for this chapter.

Two days.

When you'd arrived, you'd thought surely even these beasts wouldn't lock you up for very long, even if you weren't allowed to leave your room unattended.

Two days.

That's how long they left you locked in your studio apartment. That's how long you went without seeing another human, save for whatever 'trooper was bringing your meal. The upside was that you were racking up a fine collection of leftovers; they were, at the very least, feeding you well. Not that the food was any good.

The downside was that you, like all other humans, weren't meant to be caged up. And you were starting to lose your fucking mind. You kept your cool until the evening of the first day, up until that point, thinking that there was no fucking way they were going to keep you locked up for an entire 24-hours. Weren't you in for a fun fucking surprise? As the night stretched on, so did your incessant knocking upon your own door. You called for attendants and guards repeatedly. They quickly caught on that you were only trying to get out. Eventually, they stopped answering your calls altogether. 

You weren't sure how much sleep you'd gotten. What with how many times you woke up just as you felt yourself dozing off, you were sure it was only a meager few hours. Without any windows, and without a clock, you didn't even know what time it was. After what you only could have guessed had been a day or so, the panic set in. You started rapping on the doors harder, knowing that acting out and making a scene would only make your mission more difficult—if not completely impossible. But you quickly found that you'd stopped caring. Your mother be damned, the Resistance be damned—you hadn't come here to be locked away in a tiny gray room. You hadn't come here to be a prisoner. You knew that so many had endured worse, but already, you could feel your sanity slipping through your fingertips.

And this was how they treated their _guests_.

It was only your first mission, right? Really, your _only_ mission as the Princess of Hapes. You weren't supposed to be a spy, but had assumed the role due to the circumstances of the outcome of the war. Surely you were bound to fuck up. Surely the Resistance, now being led in part by your mother, had put some blind faith in you. Surely if you screamed and screamed and threw your body against the door, it wouldn't bungle the entire mission, right?

Besides, the worst part wasn't being locked away.

The worst part was not knowing when the hell they were letting you out.

By the time you were feeling yourself crack under the pressure, a guard had been in four or five times to bring you your meal. They fed you twice a day or so, so you knew it had been at least two days. 

After the fourth or fifth visit from a guard, you found yourself screaming and battering your fists against the door, as you'd been doing for however many hours. It was impossible to keep track. Earlier, after you realized your regal orders were completely useless aboard the Steadfast, you'd just tried to annoy the 'troopers into letting you out. Singing at the top of your lungs, hurling insults, etc. That was no longer viable either.

And since then, you'd completely fucking lost it.

You screamed until your throat was raw, until your fists were bruised. And even then, you didn't stop. And you didn't know how long it went on.

You didn't notice the blast doors opening, didn't even process the telltale hissing sound. You only realized your barrier was gone when instead of colliding with the door, your hammering fists collided with something else. Something large and soft on the surface, but hard underneath. You opened your eyes and saw that you were eye level with a black, leather-clad chest. 

And then you heard the breathing.

Through a vocoder.

Feeling like you were about to be sick, you clenched your throat shut, and your eyes flashed up.

You were met with the masked face of Kylo Ren.

And then you realized your hands were still balled into trembling fists against his colossal chest, a sea of leather and rough cloth.

You shoved yourself off of his body, thrusting yourself a few feet away, consequences be damned. Clearly you were not the woman for this job. And surely, your behavior was about to earn you an execution. More than of those Knights had a scythe. Another had a hatchet the size of—guess what—a fucking scythe. You almost welcomed it at this point. Anything but being his wife—no matter how temporary. Anything but carrying the weight of the entire kriffing Resistance on your kriffing shoulders. 

But to your surprise, Kylo didn't have you arrested. He just raised a leather-gloved hand. Instantly, you tensed, fully expecting him to use those wizard powers over your body. But he didn't. Not yet, at least.

You didn't relax. You glared at him, and ached for the satisfaction of at least seeing him glare back to you. Clearly, you weren't going to get along. But not having even an inkling of an indication as to how he was feeling left you with a crippling frustration. He was nothing but metal and leather. You weren't even sure that he was real.

Regardless, you didn't fight back. You stood, hunched over a hairsbreadth, as if you were protecting your own body, staring, waiting for whatever blow Kylo was about to inflict on you. But it never came. He just stood there, staring back at you, hand in the air—a peace offering or a warning. One of the two. It was impossible to tell.

Once he realized you were done with your little outburst, at least for the time being, he slowly lowered his hand. "I've been told your time alone in these quarters has been rather distressing."

Furiously, you wiped at your tear-stained cheeks. "Do you fucking think?" You growled.

He lifted his chin. Kriff, you ached to see his face. You ached to feel this angry at a man and not at just a...a being. "My general advised me to reassess the arrangements of your lodgings before you inflict any damage to my ship."

"The arrangements of my lodgings?" You asked furiously. "You mean you plan to keep me locked up in here until the wedding? I'd rather buy a one-way ticket straight to the kriffing nether." Your voice sounded—and felt—like gravel. Not very princess-y at all.

"No," he answered emotionlessly. "Unfortunately, I had other matters to attend to, which prevented me from checking on you sooner. I'm happy to see you haven't destroyed your quarters like my general feared you—ah."

Kylo Ren's eyes fell on the service droid, your one and only casualty. Its stupid ears had been ripped off (by you), and it laid toppled on its side. Though it was lifeless, it managed to look sad.

"You should have given me a punching bag," you hurled, but finally, straightened your back, attempting to look anything in the vein of a diplomat. Suddenly, you were feeling the beginnings of scalding humiliation. And suddenly, you were very aware that this was the first conversation you'd ever had alone with the Emperor. With your future husband.

"So it would seem," he muttered.

"I don't understand why I'm being treated like a prisoner."

"You're not."

"I find that pretty hard to believe," you scoffed.

The Emperor tilted his head to the side. "Then you don't know what I do to my prisoners."

You gulped, but only went radio-silent for a moment. Not even fear, not even Kylo Ren could render you speechless for long. "I haven't even seen my belongings. I had a trunk of clothing, toiletries. I haven't even been able to wash. I've been sitting in this slip for Gods know how many days since you so valiantly relieved me of the only real article of clothing I would have had."

You noticed his fists were slightly clenched. But his words were easy and methodical, if a little curt. "You do look rather chilled."

Fuck off, you barely stopped yourself from saying. This man _did_ have your life in his hands. So you settled with giving him a simmering glare.

"Though you are here as a welcomed guest, the infancy of the Final Order and the new world we have created has also left us in a vulnerable position. Ally or not, you must prove your loyalties before I permit you to parade about on my ship."

"I guess I didn't know what I expected from you imperial bastards."

 _Careful_ , you told yourself. You were supposed to be allies with those 'imperial bastards.' That was the part you were playing—to be one of them. If Kylo Ren was about to end your life, you couldn't tell either way. He was empty and tense as he always was. But to your supreme shock, when he spoke, he wasn't quaking with anger.

"I will permit you to leave your quarters, as you please, though you will be escorted at all times. And I will personally ensure that your personal belongings will be delivered to you at once."

"Permitted to leave?" You asked, stunned. "Starting when?"

"Starting now."

You exhaled heavily, relief bathing over you. "I want a clock," you told him. "I haven't even known how long I've been in here."

"Two days," he told you. About as much as you expected. "But I will have one installed."

"And a datapad."

"No."

You clenched your teeth, staring daggers into his mask.

"This is not a negotiation," the Emperor told you.

Your whole body clenched with anger, then. You hated feeling powerless. You hated _him_.

But now, at least you could leave at your leisure. You tried to remind yourself you needed him to trust you. So you needed to cooperate a little bit, here and there.

"Fine." You agreed, unwilling to give him any more satisfaction than that.

But apparently, you were naïve to think that would be the end of it. The Emperor hadn't left, hadn't made a swift exit. He was still there, staring lifeless daggers into your eyes. And you were afraid all over again.

"I feel the need to make something clear," the creature said, taking one single step forward that somehow managed to close the space in between your bodies altogether. Gods almighty, he was large. Suddenly, you were doused in his shadow, and felt as small as you'd ever felt in your life. You held your breath as he dipped his gaze down to yours. "My general and advisors insisted that I accept the alliance of the Hapes Consortium. To accept you. I should clarify that I dislike this entire situation just as much as it appears you do," he said, giving you a condescending once over—drinking in your tear-streaked face and fury-flushed skin. "For the good of the Order, I have agreed to this allegiance. Against my better judgment," he hissed. "You would do well to remember your place. And if you somehow don't understand where you stand on my ship, under my Order," he was leaning in even closer now. If not for the mask, you would have felt his breath fan across your face. " _I suggest you learn, Princess. Quickly_."

You didn't have time to process what he'd said, to swallow your fear before he swiftly turned on his heel, brushing you as he went. And he was gone so quickly, and you were so shocked, you only saw the trails of his cloak flittering out of view.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

As it turned out, as much as you'd wanted to leave, what you really wanted was to avoid giving Kylo Ren a shred of satisfaction at all costs.

So you sat in your room for a while longer. Only when your trunk arrived—and it did, within a couple hours of his visit—did you finally leave.

All you had to do was buzz for a 'trooper. And on your way out, a few servicemen had arrived to repair the poor droid you'd reduced to scrap metal.

By the time you'd allowed yourself to leave your quarters, it was late. You didn't have that clock yet, so you weren't sure of the time. But you knew it had been a while since Kylo Ren visited, and that had been shortly after dinner. The hallways of the Steadfast were dead. No bustling officials or 'troopers on their way to drills or whatever the kriff it was they did during the day. The only guards in the hall were the ones on duty, and the ones escorting you. Except when they'd asked you where you wanted to go, you realized you didn't have an answer. Where aboard that kriffing cursed ship could you ever have a desire to visit?

But they were at your beck and call. Kylo Ren had insisted. You were to be escorted, and you were permitted to go about your business whenever you wanted. You could have some fun with this, you realized.

But there would be time for fun later. Now was a perfect time to get started on the mission, you realized, especially since you'd lost two days. Your job was to spy on the Final Order. You didn't know when the Resistance's first letter would arrive, but when it would, you'd need to have a report ready to send back.

"I'd like to see the training facilities," you sweetly told one of the 'troopers flanking you, as if they hadn't all witnessed your little outburst back in your room just hours before. "I'd just be fascinated to see how the might of the Order came to be."

The 'trooper gave you a curt nod, and without warning, your entourage began down the hall. You almost stumbled to keep up with them. It seemed they weren't happy playing babysitter. And you planned to milk their misery for all it was worth.

The halls of the Steadfast were cold and quiet. You absolutely hated the godsforsaken ship, but its floor-to-ceiling windows did offer a spectacular view of the galaxy. The sky was scattered with stars, and the view took your breath away. Each time you passed a window, you took a good look at the space that surrounded you. Unfortunately, the times you passed a window were few and far between.

Arriving at a large set of blast doors, the 'trooper leading the pack pressed a few buttons on a keypad, and the doors opened. You realized you'd arrived, and though you were excited to get started on your mission, you were instantly discouraged to see who was waiting for you on the other side.

The general of the Final kriffing Order.

"Princess," General Pryde greeted you, voice dripping with unmistakably condescending amusement. No doubt he'd heard about your _completely justified_ behavior over the last couple of days.

"General," you said, giving him a smile so sickeningly-sweet it was practically a grimace.

"You must be pleased to finally be out and about."

"I am. And I thought that nothing would please me more than to learn just how the Order trains the best warriors in the galaxy."

"Indeed," he agreed, beaming. "And I would be more than honored to show you just how we craft the perfect soldier."

 _Ew_ , you thought, but gave him a stiff nod and a smile. The 'troopers let you out of their little box formation, but stayed close behind you as Pryde led you deeper into the room. "As you know, our stormtroopers complete their training at the academy. But we are proud to provide facilities for all members of the Final Order to maintain perfect skill levels."

Pryde lead you to a red rope, and as you looked down, you realized you were staring into the depth of a training pit. Three 'troopers were at the bottom, sparring, One had a heavy-duty incapacitator, and was trying to take out the other two, who were in turn trying to incapacitate him. This "training" seemed like a good way to end up dead. Though you figured that the Final Order had no shortage of 'troopers willing to fight and die for no good reason. 

With his hands clasped behind his back, entirely military-esque, Pryde continued deeper into the facilities, which, like the rest of the ship, were massive. There was room for a dozen of those pits, and taking a glance around, it looked like that was about how many there were. 

"Have you ever had a defector?" You asked, following Pryde.

"Once," he replied. "FN-2187. His betrayal is an example of the rarity of failure within our Order. And he was thought to be eliminated during the Battle of Exegol, which is far better than he deserved."

 _Think again, bitch_ , you thought, smirking silently to yourself. "It seems a rare matter." You bit back your smile.

"It is," Pryde answered, a little too quickly. "While one 'trooper lost is too many, our success rates are staggering. They train rigorously at the academy, and learn to die for the cause, and to leave their brothers and sisters behind on the battlefield. That is how we forge war, Princess. And that is how we won."

You came to the end of the room, and Pryde pressed a keycode at the side of another set of blast doors. They hissed and opened, and Pryde led you through them. The room was large, but not as large as the one before it. It only had one pit, though it was bigger than the ones you'd seen before. It stood on its own, in the middle of the floor. You could see the sigil of the Final Order painted on the side as you looked down.

The moment you saw Emperor Ren standing in the bottom of it was the moment you realized that these were the royal training facilities.

"The Emperor doesn't train with the rest of the rabble," Pryde explained, but you barely heard him. Your eyes were glued to the Emperor, who stood in the middle of the pit, surrounded by bucketheads. His armor and mask were on, but his hood was off.

Each man in the pit, including Kylo, was holding a sword. One was dual-bladed. Others were single-handed. One 'trooper held one sword in each hand. Kylo only held one. You'd never known anyone to do battle with a mere blade. And then it dawned on you that these weapons were meant to emulate lightsabers.

" _Begin_ ," Kylo ordered.

The first 'trooper was upon him in an instant, raising his blade, but Kylo Ren was even quicker. With a mere flick of his arm, his blade struck the 'trooper in the middle, sending him toppling backwards. By that point, another had attempted to grab him from behind, but the Emperor flipped him over his shoulder with ease. The 'trooper landed on his front with a grunt, and the Emperor lunged forward, giving his blade a wide sweep to strike the other men. He was cutting them down so quickly you could hardly believe what you were witnessing with your own eyes.

"The Emperor does battle with a lightsaber," you said to Pryde, "but practices with a metal blade?"

"They are dull blades, Princess; ideal for training and far less likely to inflict injury, though it isn't unheard of."

"But if a soldier dies while training—that's just collateral damage in the eyes of the Order, isn't it? Necessary on occasion?"

"Emperor Ren trains multiple times a day, and he never loses his sparring matches, Princess." Pryde turned to look at you then, looking as smug as he always did. Disgusting. "If the man trained with a saber, the Final Order would have no stormtroopers left."

You turned your gaze back into the pit. Four of the 'troopers were down. None of them were moving. You supposed Pryde was right. If this was what the Emperor could do with a sparring blade—who was to tell what he could do with one of those Sith plasma weapons?

But the 'trooper that was still standing wasn't going down without a fight. Kylo Ren was crouched low, twirling his blade in his hand. The two men circled each other in the pit. The 'trooper attacked first, slashing his sword wildly. It was clear that none of these men knew how Jedi truly fought. Involuntarily, your eyes narrowed on the 'trooper. And before you could stop yourself, you were speaking out of turn once more.

"Wait!" You called, leaning forward over the ropes.

Kylo Ren's head snapped up to look at you with an intensity that made your blood run cold. From behind you, you felt Pryde tense. 

You cleared your throat to keep your voice from cracking. "A Jedi wouldn't take that stance," you said, nodding towards the 'trooper. "I had a combat tutor back home; he fought in the Galactic Civil War. The Jedi are almost certainly gone, but if the Emperor ever faces one, they're more likely to fight with precision rather than strength. And even if a Jedi does favor strength, he or she never fights without focus."

Immediately, you wished you could have taken the words back, even if you knew they were true. You knew Kylo Ren was a capable fighter. Far more than capable, actually. But what was the point in training if those halfwit bucketheads didn't know a lightsaber from a club? Clearing your throat again, you watched as Ren's hand clenched and unclenched at his side.

Pryde broke the silence, and for the first time in your miserable days aboard the Steadfast, you were grateful for the man. "If anyone knows how to best a Jedi in battle, it is the Emperor," he said with a thin, colorless smile. "Come." Gently placing a hand on your arm, he guided you towards the far exit, leading you into the other side of the corridor outside the training facilities.

You sighed as soon as you exited the room, turning to face him and speaking in a hushed tone. "I meant no offense, General. I only wish to see the Emperor succeed."

The General looked at you with pity in his eyes. Funny—you had offended Pryde. He was in charge of all the soldiers. But Pryde wasn't the man you should be afraid of. "The Emperor knows better than anyone else how a Jedi conducts himself in battle."

"I've never heard of a Jedi using the old forms," you explained.

"Most of the Jedi are dead, along with their masters. If any more arise from the ashes of the fallen Resistance, on the contrary, they would revert back to the older, more careless forms without the tutelage of Skywalker and his kind."

You gave him a stiff nod.

Pryde exhaled heavily. "I will inform Captain Verse that the methods her 'troopers are using are outdated, though I am quite sure she is aware. For _your_ peace of mind."

You gave him a tense but grateful smile as he nodded in your direction, before taking his leave.

That left you alone in the hallway. Alone with the stormtroopers still flanking you.

Until, down the corridor, you saw someone else turn the corner. 

Emperor Kylo Ren was making a beeline towards you, brisk and commanding. And then you realized he wasn't stopping. 

" _Leave_ ," was the only cold command that ripped through his vocoder. Suddenly, the Stormtroopers that had just been by your side scattered to the wind. And that left you alone in the corridor—alone with Kylo Ren.

A gloved hand seized your bicep, and he roughly yanked you around the corner, into a more isolated hallway. There wasn't a guard in sight. Only you and him—as he shoved you against the wall.

You didn't realize until after your head smacked the wall behind you, that the grip around your arm was gone. With his arm outstretched, he was holding you—you realized in a moment of sickening clarity—with the Force.

You couldn't budge; every inch of your backside was pressed to the wall, your feet barely touching the floor. You knew that as soon as he released you, you'd crumble, so all you could do was stare at him with wide eyes. And for the first time since arriving on the Steadfast, you didn't try and hide from him the fear that was evident on your expression.

Inhaling shakily, you remembered that you'd prepared for this. Subtly, you tried to move your fingers. They twitched a little. That was good. At least the full-body bind he had on you wasn't, well, full-body. At least you know you could resist, even if only in the most miniscule amount.

Grunting, you glared at him, unable to do much else. "Let-me-go," you growled.

The Emperor ignored you, clenching his fist tighter. You felt his invisible hold on you strengthen, and you grunted in response.

"You are free to destroy your own quarters as much as you like, Princess, but never again will you denounce my Order in front of my subjects."

"I didn't-!" You grunted, straining at every inch against his touchless grip. "I didn't denounce the Order. I was trying to _help_ you."

"Surely you're not so naïve to believe that I need the help of some brat from the Hapes Consortium." 

With that, Kylo Ren lowered his fist, and as expected, your legs gave out from underneath you. You crumpled to the floor, landing gracelessly on your side. You sputtered for air, and could have sworn he had been beginning to constrict your lungs.

You raised your head to look at him, but saw that he had already knelt in front of you. Before you could prepare yourself, he already had a gloved hand fisted into your hair. You gasped as he wrenched your head back by your locks. Your scalp would have screamed if it could. But all you could do was gasp, breath hitching as the Emperor studied you.

"Why is your mind so empty?" He muttered.

"What the fuck?" You sputtered.

His grip tightened. You gasped again, throat clenching. He watched the veins in your neck twitch. Or at least, you thought he did. You couldn't tell with that damned mask. 

"Your mind," he repeated. "I begin to press into it and I see nothing. Hear nothing. You are either as boring as you are stupid, or you have something to hide."

You struggled against his grip, though the harder you fought, the more pain you felt. You thrashed about, trying to wrench yourself free, but all the while, Kylo Ren didn't even budge. He just watched you struggle, tilting his head slightly. Watching you like you were a curiosity. 

"You aren't much like a princess, are you?" He asked.

Your only response was a grunt as you continued to try to free yourself. You were giving it all you had, and Ren wasn't even breaking a sweat as he held you in place.

"Sorry to disappoint," you growled.

"This doesn't disappoint me at all. It's the most fun I've had in weeks."

"I have a hard time believing that," you responded, voice strained. Even when he was trying to be funny, his voice was still dark and foreboding and utterly humorless.

He hummed in response, and finally, let you go. You clattered against the wall, falling onto your ass, legs crumpling to lie straight out in front of you as you braced yourself, chest heaving. You glared daggers at him as he rose to his feet. 

"As endearing as your little outbursts may be, Princess, make no mistake. I will teach you how to pay me the respect I'm due."

You scoffed, throwing yourself to onto your legs, standing. "I'm upholding my end of the bargain. I'm here to help the Order in whatever way I can. Gods forbid I expect to be treated with the respect _I'm_ due."

"You're here," he corrected, taking a step forward and pinning you between the wall and his body, "to surrender to my will."

"You're fucking mistaken," you growled.

"Is that what you think?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

You scoffed again, this time, not trying to avoid his touch. You pressed against him, letting him know you weren't afraid. "I think it's just like the men of the Order to demand respect before they've earned it. All you do is bark orders at me and punish me when I'm the only reason your little Order is going to have a relationship with the Inner Ring at all. I think that all you want to do is scare me. And that's pathetic."

"Careful," he hissed, hand twitching at his side. Your blood mounted in your body. Suddenly, you were very aware of how close you were. The fronts of your bodies pressed together. Kylo Ren, breathing so heavily through his vocoder, that for a moment, you were sure he would have to take that helmet off...

"I think you've worn that mask for so long, you don't even know who you are underneath it."

For the first time, both of you were still and silent. Your defiance didn't falter, but your eyes had gone slightly wide. And you feared you'd just made a mistake that would cost you the entire mission. Your heart stuttered in your chest, as if your body was trying to brace for the impact.

But it didn't come. You could have sworn you heard him release a throaty growl, but just as he had earlier that evening, the Emperor turned on his heel, and tore down the corridor, away from you. 

"See that the Princess is escorted back to her quarters for the evening. Her punishment will come later," he called over his shoulder.

You exhaled, letting yourself fall back against the wall, as the 'troopers swarmed you yet again.

That was incredibly stupid of you. You could have gotten yourself killed. Could have screwed the entire mission. It was a miracle the Emperor didn't have you in a Force-choke. In that moment, you had half a mind to flee the ship, and a whole other half a mind to tackle him from behind and strangle him—save everybody the time and the trouble.

But as you watched him go, all you could feel was the warmth seeping through your skin, dousing your very blood. And you tried to ignore, as your breathing evened out, how flushed you felt, and the force of your heart hammering in your chest.


	5. The Resistance is Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wouldn’t know a real man if he wrapped a hand around your throat and made you beg for your life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER NOTES: PLEASE GO VOTE!!!! Go to iwillvote.com if you need help or instructions. If you haven’t registered and it’s too late, please convince your friends and family to VOTE NOW!!!!
> 
> Also, warnings for toxic masculinity and dark-side style interrogation.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

FIVE MONTHS EARLIER

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

"Hi. I'm Finn. I'll be training you to resist the ways of the Force, Your Highness."

You never could have foreseen yourself like this—shifting awkwardly in your chair as the Resistance fighter lowered himself into the seat across from you. It was a cold, dark storage room. Perfect for emulating the environment of the Steadfast, according to your mother and her advisors. Finn looked kind enough. But the whole thing was incredibly uncomfortable.

Nodding stiffly, you tried your best to give him a smile. When your mother had approached you for the mission, she'd given the option to send a decoy in your place. But you'd refused. And as much as you regretted that decision in part, you knew that you would never send someone else to pretend to be you, to risk her life in your place.

No, if the Final Order was going down, you wanted a hand in its destruction.

Didn't you?

Clearing your throat, you found it was difficult to meet his eye. He was still giving you a soft, gentle smile. "You don't look like a Jedi."

"I'm kind of not."

"Oh," you responded, nibbling the inside of your lower lip. That hardly made you feel better. How were you supposed to learn to protect yourself from the Emperor's Force magic, or whatever it was, if you didn't even have a master to train you?

But that wasn't Finn's fault. Because the fact of the matter was, there were no masters left.

"I know I'm not what you expected," he said, leaning forward in his chair, staring intently into your eyes. They were wide and urgent. He wanted the both of you to succeed; you could tell. "But I'm all that's left."

"Hapes is lucky to have you," you told him solemnly, giving him a nod. " _I'm_ lucky to have you. It's just...the Emperor is a master. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to stave off his little mind invasions without giving away that I have something to hide. If he sees right through me, the whole mission is over."

"Well, I'm no master, but I have been practicing. I think the best thing you can do to prepare yourself is to get used to the sensation of the Force. That's why people crack under pressure when being interrogated. They've never felt it before, so they don't know what to expect. If we can get you past that point, it'll give you an advantage that could save your life. And maybe we'll be able to pull this thing off."

You nodded, but didn't feel much comfort at his words. "He's basically a mind-wizard, right?"

"I mean, that's not the technical term, but-"

"But not only could he read my mind if he wanted to, but he could make me do things. Control my body."

Finn sighed, looking down at his feet, steeling himself before he lifted his gaze to you once again. "Look, this mission isn't going to be easy. And it's not going to be safe. If you wanted to send a decoy instead-"

"I don't."

"I know, but if you did, I wouldn't blame you. Here's what I'm here to help you with. We need to get you to a point where you can stave off his mind control abilities just enough so that he can't tell that you're resisting. Simultaneously, you'll need to supply other thoughts, other memories, so that he will see those instead."

"So I'll be allowing him to read my mind, but I'll be hiding certain things from him, without even letting him know I'm doing it."

"Exactly. But it will take practice. Months of practice. We'll need to prepare you as best we possibly can. Your Highness...it's not going to be pleasant."

You exhaled—something between a shaky groan and a sigh, and braced yourself on the edge of your chair. "Please don't call me that."

"What would you rather I call you?"

You told him your name. A nod and a small smile. Finn was leaning forward in his chair, too. You knew that he was as afraid as you were. But there was kindness and resilience plain on his face, and it made you feel safer. Even though this plan was way riskier than you wanted it to be, you knew that he wanted nothing but your success. He'd fought in the Battle of Exegol. You couldn't even imagine what he must have lost. And you didn't dare to ask.

You cleared your throat, settling back in your chair, lowering your arms onto the rests on either side. "I'm ready," you told him.

"Are you sure?"

Stiffly, you nodded. You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

"Uh...okay," Finn said, rising to his feet, bending and unbending his knees. "Okay," he echoed, cracking his neck, before turning to you and going still once again. "I'm going to, uh...look into your mind. Think of the most embarrassing memory you can. Something you won't want me to see. I won't judge you though, I promise. It's not likely that you'll be able to resist on the first try. Your secrets are safe with me."

"But they won't be with the Emperor," you muttered, conjuring up the worst memory you could, the one that you'd be motivated to hide the most.

You were able to make a decision pretty quickly; it certainly wasn't the worst memory you had, but it was definitely on the list, especially in terms of things that happened in recent memory. A few years ago, Evander and Jodah had put a dead hawk-bat under your pillow as a joke. As you curled up to sleep, your fingers curled around something large and feathery. In the darkness, you'd nearly been unable to make it out. As soon as your eyes adjusted, however, you were screaming bloody murder, thinking there was some kind of animal infestation in your bed. Evander, Jodah, and all of their friends had laughed at you for weeks, and your mother didn't even punish them.

"Ready?" Finn asked.

"As I'll ever be. What should I expect?"

He sighed, brows lifted with sorrow. "I can't explain it. It's something you have to...feel."

You nodded, breath shuddering as you sighed. "Okay," you whispered.

At first, it wasn't that bad. Your body went rigid. You thought you would have even been able to move if you tried hard enough, but you didn't fight the sensation externally. You focused on your mind, on the inside of your body, on the sensation overtaking you. One of the first things you noticed was the sound—a deafening drumming, almost a hum, or a persistent buzz, rattling inside your skull. It throbbed in your ears and made your head ache. It felt like your brain was melting, and it felt like it would take your eyes next. Your brows twitched as you swallowed down the pain. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't agony. At least you knew you could handle it so far.

But Finn was just getting started. You felt a strange warmth snaking through your veins, up your limbs—a crawling sensation that roamed through your blood, threatening upwards towards your head. You twitched, suddenly feeling like there were bugs or serpents under your skin. Your pulse points throbbed. And you saw the hawk-bat. You saw it plainly in your mind, and you tried to hide it away, tried to think of something else. _Anything_ else. But you could only focus on the pain overtaking your body. Invisible flames licked at your skin and your head ached so fiercely you thought your entire head would explode. 

You felt yourself scream—didn't hear the sound, but felt it rip its way out of your throat. You weren't sure if that was real life, or in the memory, as you chucked the animal across the room and leapt from your bed. You could hear the guards laughing on the other side of your door as you smacked at your own skin, trying to kill all the places on your body where you'd felt the feathers.

"We should take a break," Finn said. His voice sounded like it was underwater, but instantly, the pain was gone, washing off of your body. You gasped for air, gripping your armrests, realizing you were drenched in sweat.

"How long was that?" You choked.

"A few seconds."

"You can't be serious," your chest heaved. You were desperate for air. The pain was gone, but you were still agonizingly hot. "That was hell."

"It will get worse," he told you plainly.

"Did I do okay at least?"

But as you lifted your gaze towards his, the answer was plain on his kind face.

"You'll get the hang of it," he assured you. "Just try and catch your breath. It's almost always impossible the first time."

You nodded, but didn't feel even remotely comforted. Not only did you have to learn to resist, but you'd have to learn to resist with _no effort_. You'd have to learn to resist in a way that wouldn't indicate even in the slightest that you were fighting back.

And you had no idea how you were supposed to manage that.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Turns out, you really, really fucking hated Kylo Ren.

Your punishment, it seemed, was an exile to your room for an entire additional day. But that seemed like a light discipline for the Final Order, so you were sure something else was coming. And it actually made you dread the thought of someone coming to let you out of your quarters.

It was lonely and boring, but at least you had a clock and your trunk of belongings. For those initial two days, you hadn't even been able to brush your teeth or comb your hair. As the Emperor's betrothed, you hadn't been prepared to be treated so much like a high-security prisoner. Although you had to remind yourself, what the Order _really_ did with their prisoners was far, far worse.

You passed the time by reminding yourself that all of this was only temporary. You didn't even know if you'd make it to your coronation. But whether or not you did wasn't really a matter of importance to the New Resistance. Regardless of whether or not you were made Empress, you'd be helping dismantle the Order as soon as the Resistance had enough information and manpower to attack. If you and the rest of the Resistance worked fast enough, maybe you wouldn't even have to marry Ren. All the more reason to work quickly.

As you spent another day alone, you tried not to think about him. You were met with a hodgepodge of emotions when you did. Most of the time, you were filled with fear and dread. But there was something else too, simmering under the surface. You pushed it away before you could even identify it. You meditated, practicing all of the exercises Finn and General Organa had taught you over the last months.

You would need to be on the very top of your game.

The fate of the galaxy depended on it.

The evening following the incident in the training facilities, you were resting. You may have been down for the night, but quickly found that for whatever reason, you weren't able to sleep. After tossing and turning for too many minutes to count, feeling anxious and frustrated, you found yourself inhaling deeply, only wanting to put your mind and body at ease. You were bored and you were lonely and you were stressed out of your mind. It wasn't a good combination.

Flopping onto your back with an exasperated sigh, you stared at the ceiling as your fingers drifted slowly down the lengths of your thighs. Chewing the insides of your cheeks, you figured if anything could get you to relax, it was... _that_. There were plenty of men back home to think about. As cruel and obnoxious as Evander and Jodah had been when you were all growing up, neither of them were exactly a chore to look at. Especially Evander. And he had always been a bit kinder, too, though all of the guards had been a pain in your ass at one time or another. You sighed wistfully as your fingers found the fabric of your panties, and you grazed your fingers softly over your sex.

Evander was all bulky muscle, impressive especially for his age. Now, he was twenty-four. But he'd looked like a man for almost as long as you could remember. Light, brown hair and tan skin, hazel eyes. He'd always enjoyed teasing you with Jodah. But how exciting was it that they'd always sought you out? They'd always wanted some attention from the princess that they were sworn to protect. But in the end, you wound up teaching them a thing or two in target practice.

Your breath hitched as your fingers gained speed. You felt your cheeks blooming with warmth. Good gods, apparently it had been a while, because you were already starting to unravel. You thought of his hands, strong and steady and warm above yours the first time he'd taught you to wield a vibroblade. The two of you had been alone on the banks and he'd stood behind you. You could feel the front of his body pressing up against your backside. You'd never felt so warm in your life. Nothing had ever happened between the two of you; it was against the rules for guards to fraternize with royalty. You'd had your fair share of trysts with other diplomats anyway.

But Evander...good gods, was he a fucking sight.

Already, you were close. Your wrist ached as you drew yourself further, envisioning Evander's face. You let the images play out in your mind, tried to conjure his musky scent. And you were enjoying it, until—

A gloved hand. Two fingers, stretching your mouth. A dark throne room. Countless eyes. Watching you.

Watching you—and _him_.

Your breath hitched as you gasped and your fingers froze, eyes flying open to stare at the cold, lifeless room once again.

Not Kylo Ren. _Anyone_ but Kylo Ren.

Your chest was heaving as you stared into the darkness, utterly confused with yourself. You tried to shake the thoughts away, tried to tell yourself you hadn't known where they'd come from. Because you didn't see him like that.

He was evil and he was cruel and he was the man you were planning on _killing_ , no less.

And he deserved it. That was the thing. He kriffing deserved it.

But who had to know? He may be a mind reader, but he would never go looking for something like _that_. On one hand, you thought maybe he was a psychopath well-versed in raw, sexual carnage. On the other, he was somehow less than a man. Above those urges, perhaps. And regardless of which was true, it was clear he had his sights set on the victory of his precious Order and absolutely nothing else.

And whether or not you found a masked creature enticing in any way, you would kill him regardless.

You snuggled into the sheets again, exhaling, willing yourself to relax as you let your mind take you where it would. Your fingers rubbed slowly over your sex once again. Just this once, you told yourself, You'd never even seen his face. So why did your body want him? You decided to analyze yourself later.

Because thinking of the Emperor was already bringing you to the brink.

You groaned, fingers darting over your clit, legs tense and beginning to tremble. You'd never seen his face, but you'd felt his fingers in the back of your throat. You'd heard his voice—his commanding, overpowering voice. " _If somehow you don't understand where you stand on my ship, then I suggest you learn, Princess._ "

A moan bubbled from your lips. You didn't try to quell it. You were right there, right there-

But then the blast doors opened.

You gasped, hands flying to your sides, as you jolted upright in bed.

Dressed only in your chemise, you brought up a hand to cover your cleavage as you squinted your eyes in an attempt to adjust to the darkness. You tried to will your breathing to even out, but naturally, that was a lost cause. As you stared ahead, trying to quell both your nerves and the unforgivable thrumming of your heart, your felt your lips part. If anyone would come to see you, you'd expect a stormtrooper, or maybe General Pryde.

You certainly hadn't expected the Emperor himself to grace you with his presence.

The outline of his silhouette was unmistakable against the pale lighting of the corridor illuminating him from behind. It felt like something out of a nightmare.

You tried to ignore how tousled your hair was, or how the spaghetti-strap of your nightgown was slipping off your shoulder. And you found yourself wondering if he could hear your heartbeat. It was ramming against your chest. But at least the flush against your skin was hidden in the darkness.

You would have appreciated, like, _two minutes_ to make yourself presentable. But apparently, that wasn't on the Emperor's agenda.

"I didn't think anyone would be coming to let me out tonight. Certainly not the Emperor."

"Whether or not I let you out depends."

"Is that so. On what?"

"On whether or not you've learned your lesson."

You swallowed. _Please don't let him have heard me. Please don't let him have heard me._ "Are you serious?" You breathed. "You put me in time-out for a day and it's all good?" What was this, fucking child's play?

Somehow, Kylo Ren seemed to darken. "I would be very careful about toying with punishment, if I were you."

You cleared your throat, slinging your legs over the side of the bed and yanking your day dress from the floor, which you'd previously discarded rather carelessly. "If you don't mind?" You huffed, looking between him and the garment, a vague request for privacy to change. Though in all honesty, you were frantic and desperate for a chance to get away from him long enough to collect yourself.

"That won't be necessary."

Suddenly, your stomach felt more like a pit. You swallowed, and dropped the gown to the floor, lowering your arms. 

"Look, earlier, in the training room, I didn't mean to suggest that you didn't know how to fight a Jedi. You're probably the only person on this ship who knows how to fight a Jedi. But the 'trooper was doing a terrible job of sparring, and I was concerned you're not getting ample practice. That's all. I understand I may have offended General Pryde, and that wasn't my intention. So if you're going to demand additional punishment, please just get it over with."

The Emperor was silent for a long time. So long, that you weren't at all sure what he was going to do with you. But with every second that passed, more and more dread settled into your bones, your uneasiness in your stomach. You swallowed again and tried to steady your nerves, but there was no use. Not until he finally decided to set you free.

Kylo Ren exhaled heavily, lifting his chin. You stared at that cold, lifeless mask as he spoke. "There will be no further punishment."

Exhaling in relief, you lowered yourself onto the bed. "Thank the kriffing gods," you murmured, staring at the floor.

"But I'm not done with you yet."

The Emperor's words struck you unexpectedly, and you raised your gaze to look at him, expression muddled with confusion.

"Though you will not be disciplined for your insubordination, it is protocol to have your mind examined to ensure your loyalties."

Your jaw went slack. "You have to be joking."

"I think you know that I'm not."

You shut your mouth only to grit your teeth. This wasn't happening. "I thought that your alliance with my home planet meant that you trust me. Why would you have me aboard this ship if you don't trust me?"

"I could take an Empress from any planet, from any reach of the galaxy, Princess. And I wouldn't trust a single one of them."

Your heart sank, plummeting to your gut. Heat fanned your body, and you felt dizzy. You wanted to run. More than anything, you wanted to run.

But on the Steadfast, there was nowhere to go.

"Okay," you said, voice breaking. You cleared your throat. "Well, I guess maybe in the morning, I can-"

"No." The Emperor's voice was cold and unfeeling. "We will begin the process now."

You almost threw up. Clenching the walls of your throat, you nearly jumped to your feet. "Are you serious? This can't wait?"

"No. It cannot." Ren's voice was bordering on threatening, now, and a fresh wave of dread washed over you. Regardless of whether you wanted to cooperate or run, you were planted to the spot in panic. "I suggest you come willingly, Princess."

You swallowed again. Your throat felt dry and scratchy. But you gave him a nod and tried to look calm, even though you knew you were failing monumentally.

And then you followed the Emperor from the room.

Just as it had been the other night, the corridors of the Steadfast were largely deserted due to the late hour of the night. You would have assumed that Kylo Ren would have retired to his quarters for the night, or at least given him Emperor duties a break. But another part of you had a feeling that Kylo Ren never rested. As you followed him down the sleek, sterile, charcoal-grey corridors of the Steadfast, you tried to keep your eyes on the floor. But you couldn't seem to keep them off the back of his head. It was the first time you'd been out of your room without being flanked by stormtroopers. Now, it was just you and the Emperor.

You and Kylo Ren.

His pace was rapid, and you nearly had to run to keep up with him, though you figured a part of that was due to the outrageous length of his legs. His cape swished back and forth, and even from behind, you could tell his cowl was pulled low over his helmet.

You followed him in silence, and surprisingly, you didn't wonder where he was taking you. It didn't cross your mind that you'd be treated more like a prisoner any more than you already had. You were to be his _wife_. Even though your true purpose was to betray the bastard as soon as you got word from the Resistance, as far as Ren was concerned, you were the Empress to be. You deserved a hell of a lot better than the treatment you'd been given already, let alone anything worse.

But how fucking naïve you were.

When Kylo lead you into a room that was—undoubtedly—an interrogation room, and when he stopped in the middle of it, turning towards you in silence, you thought that he'd taken a wrong turn. But the longer he stood there just _looking_ at you, the more you began to realize that you were absolutely fucked. It was a pretty small room, with nothing but cobalt, blue walls and a dark, metal contraption standing upright in the middle. It had buttons and lights and straps and the more you looked at it, the more you felt like you were going to throw up all over the Emperor of the fucking galaxy.

"What is this?" You asked him.

"Your interrogation," he responded emotionlessly.

"No. Absolutely not." You stumbled backwards, having every intention to leave. But Ren twitched two fingers, and just like that, the door behind you slammed shut. And then it locked.

Dread and doom. A thousand thoughts pounded the inside of your skull, and you couldn't identify a single one. All that you could understand was the pure fear throbbing inside your blood. You'd never seen the Force in action before—not like that.

And so far, you didn't like it.

"I haven't done anything," you pleaded.

"If that's true, then you have nothing to hide. And if you have nothing to hide," Kylo Ren took a step forward, until your bodies were close. Too close. His voice was so low and quiet, body so still, you thought for a moment, he could have even shown you a shred of kindness. "Then you have nothing to fear," he concluded.

You inhaled, and your breath rattled.

Kylo's head dipped down a hairsbreadth closer to you. He was examining you closely, you realized, and your body went rigid as you wondered, in a panic, what the hell he was doing. "I saw this the other day in my throne room," he began. "You were so scantily clad, then, as you are now," he said, voice dripping with apathy and disapproval. He brought up a leather-covered finger to brush your collarbone. You tingled under his touch. "I can't help but notice you look weak. Almost sickly. Why is that?"

If the circumstances had been different, you would have given him a good sock in the jaw. But in all honestly, you knew he was completely correct. You'd been training with Finn for months. Which meant that you'd been voluntarily tortured every day for the past 150 days, give or take a few. What the fuck else were you supposed to look like?

You did your best to raise your chin just as you did your best to remain looking even a fraction as strong and stoic as you wanted to.

"I had a bad case of Csillian flu a couple months back," you told him curtly.

"Hm," he murmured, dropping his finger to clasp his hands behind his back and turning sharply away from you, striding up to the metal machine in the middle of the room. Once he'd reached it, he turned back to you. You stared at him, standing next to that terrifying contraption. And it hardly took a spaceship engineer to figure out what he wanted from you. "It will be easiest if you cooperate."

"And if I don't?"

Ren lowered his gaze. "It's best if you don't find out."

Exhaling shakily, it quickly dawned on you that you had two choices: the first was to try and run, open the door if you could, flee Kylo Ren if you were lucky, and make yourself a fugitive to both the Order and the Resistance.

The second was to do as he asked.

As you crossed the room to reach the contraption, you held his gaze, glaring fiercely at that mask so he would know exactly how you felt about all of it. Everything he had done to you. Everything he was putting you through. You tried to ignore the fear mounting in your blood as you reached the metal thing.

"Step onto the bar," he told you.

With a final glance, a final moment of simmering, hateful silence, you did as you were told, turning around and lifting yourself to stand on the foot rest, back flat against the steel board that ran up the length of your body.

Ren then moved to the restraints on either side of the machine.

"That's not necessary," you told him quickly.

"I will decide what's necessary." The Emperor strapped down one wrist. And then he moved onto the other. No matter what was about to happen, you were stuck.

You gave your wrists a tug as Ren moved to the side of the machine. You weren't sure what he did, or where the controls were, but suddenly, you were being lowered backwards. You gasped nervously as you felt the room shift around you. The contraption tilted you until you were at roughly a forty-five degree angle. Only then did he step away, planting himself a few feet in front of you. Staring down at your helpless body.

You tugged your wrists again. The restraints wouldn't budge. You realized you could hardly breathe, heart hammering so fiercely in your chest you were sure your sternum would split open.

"Don't resist," he warned, voice almost soft as he lowered himself into the chair opposite you. Even though you had a few feet of space, you still felt like you were about to be crushed under his gaze. "Let's begin," he said.

Your heart was hammering. Blood thrummed in your ears. Already, you felt like you were falling apart. And he hadn't even started.

"You were the Chume'da of the Hapes Consortium. Raised at the Fountain Palace on your home planet. Your mother is the Queen, and you would have taken her place upon her death if the Final Order hadn't achieved such victory."

"That's why I'm here, isn't it?" You deadpanned.

He didn't seem to appreciate that, but it was hard to tell. You tried to remind yourself that he wasn't unreadable. You couldn't see his face, but you could see his body. His hands clenched slightly at his side. You were a pain in his ass—that much was obvious so far.

"Do you have any loyalties outside of the Order?"

"Of course not."

"You know nothing about any emerging Resistance plot to overthrow my rule?"

"The Resistance is gone."

Ren stood then, and you felt yourself tense against the metal brace running up the back of your body. In a single step, he'd closed the distance between you. Now, he was looking at you. Intently. Only inches away.

He outstretched his hand. And in an instant, you felt that same agonizingly, sickeningly familiar sensation.

"You lived near the water," he murmured. "I didn't know the palace is on the coast; I've never been. I'd never heard anything about your silly little planet." He went silent for a moment. Almost as if he was enjoying the view of your memories. The memories of where you really belonged.

You saw the shoreline on the eastern side of the Fountain Palace, and the valley below the western side. And you knew that Ren saw it too.

 _Home_ , you thought. What you would give to be there now, instead of there, with him.

You thought he may have said something to you. But the buzzing in your brain was growing loud, and the blood thumping in your ears was all but deafening.

"Do you know anything about the New Resistance?" His voice was louder, now.

"What New Resistance?" You grunted.

Ren had come closer to you, hand nearly brushing your cheek. You trembled, breathing heavily.

"I sense you resisting," he murmured.

"I'm not resisting, I'm in pain," you groaned.

Immediately, you went to Evander. You let him fill your mind, from before the Resistance had found its way into your lives. Suddenly, he was everywhere, but you found yourself wanting to hide him from the Emperor, too. But you couldn't. He was there: thick brows, his smug, mischievous smile a stark contrast from his painfully gentle eyes. He was there with his hands on yours. He was there, sparring with you, striking his vibroblade so close to your middle that it had knocked you onto your ass. But then he was kneeling down, making sure you were alright. And then, when he was finally vulnerable, so fearful for your safety, you'd tackled him to his back, pressing yourself on top of him. The two of you had laughed madly, and when the laughter had died out, it was replaced with a heavy silence.

The Emperor hummed lowly, contemplating the memory.

"Don't," you warned.

"You miss him. But you were lonely," The Emperor grunted, as if the realization was somehow painful, or tiring, for _him_. You felt your brows knit together, but you said nothing. You didn't care to know why that mattered to him. "You never fit in with those so-called 'friends.' Constantly surrounded by people, but even those you liked disappointed you. Teased you."

In your mind's eye, you saw yourself chucking the hawk-bat, leaping from your bed, shrieking in fear as Evander and Jodah burst in through the other side of your door, laughing their heads off. That happened years before you became close with Evander. He only needed to grow up a little.

"You know nothing about my friends."

"Some friends they must be," he murmured with a small scoff. "But they aren't, really, are they? They _worked_ for you. Their job was to keep you safe. Most working people have no real love for a diplomat. That's why you were lonely. You had the riches and power your little planet had to offer, and yet you mattered to nobody."

You knew it wasn't true. Evander had been a bully long ago, but once he'd matured, your friendship had matured, too. For a time, you'd even wanted it to be more than just a friendship. Even though he was in the royal guard, and it was forbidden.

"Why are you doing this?" You screeched, feeling the agony of the invisible flames that had begun to lick at your limbs. Your mind was aching fiercely. You felt like his power was about to cleave you in two. Like your mind was about to burst open.

He pressed harder. You jaw opened, and you groaned.

His hand twitched. "You like him because he hurt you." Ren's voice dropped, low and dark, and it rose from somewhere deep in his chest. You felt your stomach plummet.

Again, he pressed harder, further into your mind, hand coming to make contact with the side of your face. You moaned loudly, letting the images come forward: images of Evander, images of fantasy, not of memory. Rolling with him in the sheets, letting him kiss your neck, feeling every inch of him press against your skin...

" _Get out,_ "

"No," he growled.

You whimpered. You had to let him look. Because if he was fixated on this, as humiliating as it was, then at least he wouldn't see Finn. General Organa. The Resistance. You, spearheading its first, and most important mission.

Casting your gaze to the side so he wouldn't see your lip tremble, you watched Evander in your mind and knew that Ren could see it, too. It was painful and humiliating, and you'd broken into a sweat. Your limbs shook from the mere sensation of feeling his raw power tear through your mind—let alone from shutting him out of certain parts of it.

Ren drew himself close to you, just as you felt a bead of sweat roll down your forehead and fog your vision. You blinked your eyes rapidly, and noticed that there were tears falling too. His hand gripped your face. You opened your mouth and cried out, feeling like your body was bursting at the seams, feeling as if it was simultaneously being burned and ripped open.

You felt his mask brush the shell of your ear. The metal was cold and harsh and you winced at the simulation, feeling your knees buckle.

"You wouldn't know a real man if he wrapped a hand around your throat and made you beg for your life."

Whimpering, the gloved hand was back—bursting through your mind, two leather-sheathed fingers thrusting through your lips, slipping under your tongue before pressing farther back. Now, it wasn't Evander's face in your mind.

It was Kylo Ren's.

A sound tore through your throat—a strange combination of a grunt and a scream. You wracked your body against the machine, as if you could break open the restraints from sheer force.

Finally, Kylo released his hand. At last, the buzzing in your mind ceased. You went still, slamming your back against the interrogation table and staring blankly ahead of you, feeling your body twitch with the aftershocks of agonizing pain. You released a rattling exhale. And all the while you tried to steady your breathing, Ren didn't move. He stayed there, still, intensity rolling off of him in thick, heavy waves, face only inches from yours.

Staring at you.

Staring at the sweat dripping down your brow, down your neck, down your cleavage and below the neckline of your damp chemise.

Both of you were breathing heavily, chests heaving. You swallowed thickly, trying not to let your eyes dart towards him like you knew they wanted to. You could see him in your peripheral, looming over you like a dark, poisonous shadow. You didn't dare speak. You knew what he saw. And he knew what you were thinking about.

And you didn't even have the strength to stop it.

You whimpered as you felt gloved fingers move to your restraints. One wrist went free, and your arm dropped to sag at your side, nearly pulling your whole body with it. The other one followed, and you struggled to stand. You gripped at the sides of the table to keep from crumpling to the floor.

The Emperor stood in front of you for another moment. Trembling, you rose your gaze, glaring into the empty, black space of his mask where his eyes should be. You kept your brow drawn in contempt, your lips puckered in a furious scowl—just so he'd know how much you hated him.

He straightened his shoulders. And then he turned on his heel, opening the door with his mind powers, without even having to _fucking touch it_ , leaving you behind, alone in the interrogation room.

Moments later, 'troopers swarmed inside, gripping the sides of your arms just as you began to fall. Shakily, you allowed them to help you from the room.

As you were being walked back to your apartment, legs barely functioning, a 'trooper gripping you on either arm, the reality of your circumstance became very clear.

Fuck your mission, you decided. This wasn't about overthrowing the Final Order from the inside—not anymore.

This was about figuring out how the hell you were going to get out of there alive. 


	6. Wide-Eyed and Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he’d marched himself off to his sparring session that evening, he was seething. But he knew perfectly well where his anger lied—with himself. She tempted him—wide-eyed and wicked. But he’d allowed it. It was his first failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER NOTES: Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know, if you’ve been fallowing this story, I made a small alteration. I’m a dumb bitch and I've just remembered that sith troopers are a thing. I’ve added them into “How We Forge Alliances” and they will be present moving forward. There’s just sooo much lore, it’s kind of impossible to remember everything, and also, I am dumb, so please forgive any errors with SW history, and I will correct them ASAP if they arise again but maybe don’t fact check me and just roll with it. Love you! 
> 
> TW for light misogyny and strong toxic masculinity and toxic male hypocrisy. Don’t read if this will trigger or bother you. These behaviors aren’t meant to be glorified, but I believe they are consistent with the character at this time. Slight violence also included. 
> 
> Also, I know this is a bit slow right now, but I swear, shit is going to hit the fan and keep spinning for like 20 chapters.

The last few days had been very difficult for Kylo Ren.

When he'd told the princess he'd accepted her mother's alliance against his better judgment, it may have been the most blatantly honest words he'd ever spoken. He had no need for an Empress. He had no need for the favor of a sad cluster of planets in the Inner Rim. 

When the girl had first sauntered into his throne room, even Kylo had to admit he was intrigued. She was plainly strong and sure of herself. And at that point, wasn't sure whether or not he would hate her. But her little act of defiance had marked the beginning of his long, ceaseless descent into fury. They'd brought him a princess, and yet she paraded herself around like she thought she was a commander. 

Nothing but a shameless, promenading, spoiled brat trying at a game she had no business playing. 

Then why was it beyond indifference, what he felt for her? Why was his frustration so loud, so fucking relentless? It felt like the beginnings of something he'd felt not long ago, for somebody else.

That wasn't a road he would ever go down again.

But there was something different this time, with this brat. At first, he hadn't even been sure he'd seen it, when he'd checked her mouth for weapons. Her eyes went wide, and she was horrified with him, clearly. But where there's fear, oftentimes, there's a lingering of something else. From behind his mask, with his fingers under the grove of her tongue, he narrowed his eyes, trying to discern whether or not he was truly seeing anything on her features other than pure disdain. His fingers ventured farther, testing her.

And then, almost in an instant, he remembered where he was. And he'd taken back his hand without giving the idea another thought.

When he'd marched himself off to his sparring session that evening, he was seething. But he knew perfectly well where his anger lied—with himself. She tempted him—wide-eyed and wicked. But he'd allowed it. It was his first failure.

 _She's nothing but a girl from some sad little rock in the Inner Rim_ , he reminded himself. Tirelessly. _Nothing more. Nothing less._

Though as he feared, his frustration with the girl didn't cease. Even when she'd proven herself useful.

She'd spoken out against him. Little brat. Even so, the point wasn't invalid. There was no telling which forms the new Jedi would use, if there even were any, which wasn't even a certainty. Without their masters, years of history and technique would be lost. However, her little insubordination had made Kylo realize that he was above training with a mere 'trooper. And not even a Sith Trooper at that.

"From now on, I'll be training only with the Knights of Ren," he'd informed Captain Verse the very next morning.

"Emperor...your new apprentices are still in the infancy of their training. It will take tireless practice for them to even begin to compare to the old Knights. They aren't ready."

"Finor is," Kylo had insisted, leaving not a shred of room for argument, during on his heel before the conversation was even over. "You'll have him prepped today. I will no longer spar with stormtroopers."

After that, he figured that at least she had done some good. And General Pryde had suggested he make peace with the girl; the knowledge of her distaste of her new life on the Steadfast was growing like wildfire, known by every rank and file of every 'trooper, every radar technician—hells, every kriffing janitor. Again, against his better judgment, Kylo had agreed to try to make her stay aboard the Steadfast a little less daunting. But it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. If it could ensure she was less angry, put out that little fire that was constantly raging in her chest, maybe it would quell something in him, too.

That was his second mistake. Thinking it would work.

When he'd approached her room to graciously inform her that there would be no additional punishment, an announcement that she should have been grateful for, should have made her grovel on her pretty little knees, he heard something strange. He stopped just a few feet shy of the door to her quarters, curtly waving away the 'trooper standing guard. Once Kylo was alone outside of her room, he went still, settling his shoulders and taking a deep, steady breath.

Desire. Rolling off of her in waves. He could feel it. He didn't even have to look into her mind to see it. He felt his entire body go taut, something deep in his chest stiffening. 

For a split second, he began to look. It would have taken nothing to creep into her mind, to see who she was picturing. Hapian whore. Dragging his teeth against his lower lip and inhaling hotly through his nose, he outstretched a hand. Just to see what sad little man she envisioned was pleasuring her.

But, no. No, it would only feed the budding interest he was already beginning to feel. He would enter her room. And she would know that _he_ knew what a filthy slut she was. 

The look on her face when he entered her room—he wished he could have imprinted it to memory. He also wished the room wasn't so dark, so he could see more details. But even in the dim light, he could make out the part in her soft lips. Her wide eyes. The strap of her chemise sliding down her shoulder...

Kylo thought that would have been his last mistake. That he would kill whatever unearned fascination he had with her before it even began to bloom in full. 

How wrong he had been.

His last mistake was everything that happened in the interrogation room.

When he'd searched her mind, he found nothing to indicate that she was any real threat. He shouldn't have given her so much credit. What could a princess from such an irrelevant planet have to hide? Besides, someone so unskilled wouldn't stand a chance against the mind-bending powers that Kylo possessed.

It should have been over the second he realized that she had no information or knowledge on the Resistance that Kylo was beginning to suspect was being born anew. 

But he looked deeper.

Earlier, he'd stopped himself, when he'd heard her silent cry of crippling desire. He'd been able to contain his obsession, to will himself to resist looking into her mind, to see whatever half-man she was picturing. 

His nostrils flicked with rage. He couldn't stop himself. Not now. 

His hand tensed and in an instant, he found the man. A guard, it seemed, or a soldier. Someone who worked at the palace. He was handsome. So handsome it made Kylo's stomach turn. 

Whoever this man was, he looked youthful. Happy. It made Kylo sick. Physically, he appeared strong. There was no denying that. But the boyishness in his eyes...he wouldn't know real strength if it clobbed him over the head with a lightsaber hilt.

He watched her struggle. It ignited something within him, something he couldn't identify, but didn't bother to swallow down. The excitement licked at his mind, urging him forward. 

"You wouldn't know a real man if he wrapped a hand around your throat and made you beg for your life," he'd told her.

He watched her whimper. His gut turned. Was that what she wanted? Was that what _he_ wanted? He didn't know anymore, and wouldn't even think on it long enough to find out.

Because in an instant, the guard she had been thinking about was gone.

And Kylo Ren was standing in his place.

He was taken back to that day in the throne room, their first meeting. Seeing it in her mind was like stepping into her memory. He could nearly feel her taut lips wrapped around his fingers. And he knew that she could feel it, too.

His stomach dropped, and he lowered his hand. He couldn't identify the feeling that he felt, now. Was it disgust? Desperation? Suddenly, he couldn't distinguish left from right. Until he felt himself flooded with anger.

He didn't know what he'd expected, or wanted, to see. He _certainly_ hated seeing her with that other man, even in just a memory. 

He stood so close to her. His breath would have fanned her hair if he took his helmet off. He was silent as watched her gather her breath, breasts heaving, tendons in her neck and décolletage straining. So silent, that he could hear nothing but her desperate breathing. His chest tightened. Everything tightened.

Especially his trousers.

He sunk his teeth down onto the insides of his cheek, sucking them hollow. For a moment, he stalled, unsure of what his next move would be. He was blazing with desire. But there was something else, too. Fury and rage at her wickedness.

He shouldn't want her. She was shameless. Desperate. He was too, but he was the Emperor. She was nothing. A princess from a planet he'd barely heard of before.

A Hapian whore.

He shouldn't want her.

And she shouldn't make him want her.

He growled again as he turned from the room, grateful that he was wearing enough layers to conceal the tent in his pants, leaving the 'troopers to deal with her as he pounded to his quarters. He couldn't reach them fast enough. As soon as he was alone, he tore off his helmet and let it clatter to the ground before doing the same with his cape. He shed his belt and tunic as though he was burning underneath them, which, in a way, he was. 

He was left in nothing but his trousers and outer shirt, and still, he felt the flames. With one hand braced on the wall, he used his free hand to slide his trousers down his hips. He spit into his hand and gripped his cock, exhaling the moment he felt the pressure he was aching for. He felt his dick twitch in his hand, throbbing angrily. He winced, lips curling in frustration. And then he began to stroke himself. He rolled his wrist lightly but his pace was unforgiving. His back slightly hunched, he thrusted into his hand like his life depended on it. 

He grunted, feeling heat swell in his chest. He closed his eyes and pictured her—strapped to the interrogation table. Sweating. Crying. Gods, this wasn't going to take long, he realized, as a hot wave of pleasure sent a tremble throughout his body. He thought of her lips next, wrapped around his fingers. And that's how he came. He emptied himself into his palm, swallowing down a roar, biting his cheek. He huffed with heavy air, fingers trailing the tip of his cock. Rolling his hips through the last of it, he finally let his lips part. He choked out an exhale, staring at the mess in his palm. Pathetic.

He gathered himself. And then he told himself that that was the first and last time he would think of her. His little princess.

A few days passed since the incident in the interrogation room. All in all, it had been a week and a half since the princess had boarded the Steadfast. He'd been avoiding her for days. And with difficulty, he'd managed to keep it in his pants.

It was evening. The Steadfast was nearing Bothawui, an unsavory planet, a hub of sabotage if the galaxy had ever seen one. Bothawui had been known for its thick network of trafficking and espionage, a deep-rooted weed of scum and dregs that spindled the cities and the backroads. In fact, it was home to the Bothan Spynet, an organization with no consistent loyalty—prior to the insurgence of the Final Order, of course. Now, like most other planets, it had caved to Kylo Ren's will. And now, it would help him ensure that every other planet from here to the unknown regions would follow. 

And he was anxious to arrive. Anxious for any useful piece of information, anything to distract him from the thorn in his side—the princess. Kylo found himself trying—and failing—to meditate: legs crossed, body levitating six inches or so off the ground, saber resting in the air above his knees. Eyes closed. Mask on. 

Thankfully, all of his mentors were dead, and there was no one left to chide him: _it's happening again._ Kylo had let his obsession get the best of him before. 

The downside to that was that there was no one to tell him how to proceed, no one to guide him until he was above his urges. No one to comfort him, to tell him there was nothing wrong with simply thinking about the girl. 

Kylo Ren was the only master left.

Snoke, Palpatine, Luke, even his own mother, or so he'd been told—none of them remained. Electing himself the master of the Dark Side was a matter of its own. Being a master of his own feelings, his own desires...

 _I'm not ready_ , a small voice in the back of his mind said. _I need more time._

But there _was_ no time. Not being ready was no longer a luxury he could afford. His uncle would have told him to trust his instincts. Luke himself had never been a stranger from acting on impulse, Kylo recalled with a bitter scoff. But regretfully, it was the best, and maybe the only, advice that he had. 

The trouble was, he didn't know which impulse to listen to.

He growled under his breath.

He was thinking about her. 

And he was hard.

Again.

He was about to cave. He'd gone days without touching himself to the thought of her, and it was straining him. 

Thank the Gods—that was when someone arrived on the other side of his door.

"Master Ren," said a voice on the other side. Gil, one of his newly recruited Knights. "The transport is ready for you."

Earlier than he expected, Kylo thought. Excellent. His feet touched the ground and he caught his lightsaber in his band before he pushed away from his room and into the corridor.

On the hangar, he was met with protests from General Pryde. According to him, venturing to Bothawui for information on the Resistance was a waste of time.

"The Resistance is long gone, your Imperial Majesty." Pryde's sniveling voice made Kylo cringe. "We crushed them at the Battle of Exegol. It was a monumental victory."

The Emperor narrowed his eyes from underneath his mask. He wasn't sure what Pryde really believed. Perhaps he was stupid enough to think the Resistance was gone forever. Perhaps he missed his old Emperor, and wanted to see his usurper fail. Kylo squared his jaw. "I'd prefer to confer with the contacts the Spynet has offered me than rely merely on your good faith, General."

Kylo looked towards the transport, losing both interest and patience with the conversation he was having.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Pryde blubbered. "Not a soul would dare defy the Order."

Like a thick weed, or a seasonal plague, the Resistance always found its way back, popping up on some uncharted planet to wreak havoc from invisible reaches. His Generals should know this. They should prepare for it. They were either naïve or stupid or both if they didn't remember how many times it had happened in the past, even when the plague had seemingly been eviscerated.

And he knew they all thought he was paranoid—Verse, Pryde, all of them. Kylo took a steadying breath, reminding himself that the rebels had been decimated at Exegol. Whether or not it was the outcome he'd yearned for at the time. But he had to make sure. He had to settle his nerves, still his paranoia, once and for all.

And Bothawui was maybe the only place where he could do it.

Run out of patience, Kylo turned on his heel, thumping towards the shuttle. Once he was aboard, he turned back to Pryde. "So eager to keep me from weeding the garden, General, that one may think your true desire is to let it grow."

Once aboard the ship, Kylo stared into Pryde's face as the ramp lifted. Seeing the man's expression, eyes wide with regret and fear, lips parted in shock—well, at least that added a little bit of brightness to Kylo's day.

The pilot set a course to Bothawui, and they landed just outside one of the western cities—if you could call it a city. Bothawui wasn't exactly Canto Bight, and catered more to traffickers and spies. But those types of people were what made Bothawui as valuable as it was.

When Kylo stepped off the ramp, he was greeted with an underwhelming landscape. He was far from the capitol, on the more secluded western continent. With Sith Troopers on his heel, he reached The Wreckage, a small, unassuming cantina.

Kylo stepped inside and was met with about the level of unsavory he was expecting. Throngs of different species were playing cards; a tranoshan was lying drunk in the corner, and against the far wall, two rodians were engaged in sad, sloppy fist fight. A man with a hood pulled over his head, who looked like he might have been sleeping, or meditating, was sitting in a chair against the wall. As soon as Kylo made two strides, however, everyone in the hall went silent. Heads turned, eyes landing upon the Emperor. None of them looked like they knew what to do. But Kylo wasn't Emperor for the comfort in petty, worthless greetings or groveling. Without paying further mind to anyone, he marched to the bar.

The poor barmaid was wiping a glass clean when she landed in the gaze of the Emperor. Her eyes went wide, too, brow twitched with uncertainty. Fear. He could practically taste it.

"On'fortaa," he clipped.

She raised a shaking hand, finger pointing to the back.

Without a word of thanks, he swept towards the area she indicated, marching down a dark corridor before he came to a rickety, wooden door.

He could have knocked. But Kylo Ren knew how to make an entrance. He inhaled, and the lock barring the door slid open, followed by the door itself.

On'fortaa was seated behind his desk, engaged in a hushed conversation with a quarren. His eyes lifted when Kylo opened the door, a for a moment, they flickered with anger.

And then he realized who had interrupted him.

"Emperor," he stood, outstretching his arms and beaming at his visitor, before shooing the quarren away with a low hiss. Kylo stepped inside, and the quarren slipped out the door behind him, practically cowering in fear. His Sith Troopers had their instructions to wait outside. 

"What do you have for me," Kylo said curtly.

"Please, please, sit, your Majesty." On'fortaa beamed, ever the gentleman, as he swept back to his own seat, gesturing lavishly to the chair that sat before the desk. Such a gracious host. But his red eyes gave Kylo the creeps—as did the headtail that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf.

"May I offer you a beverage?"

"The Resistance," Kylo quipped.

On'fortaa gave a tight smile. "We have found nothing, Your Greatness. While it's more than likely a few short-range vessels escaped Exegol, it's also possible that all Resistance pilots would have rather elected to fight and die. Through all the reaches of the galaxy, my men have detected not a shred of Resistance correspondence."

"What about in the outer regions," Kylo responded. It wasn't a question.

On'fortaa sighed. "No traffic," he replied.

Kylo exhaled hotly. Surely the Spymaster thought Kylo should be relieved at this news. But something told the Emperor that the Spynet hadn't found the Resistance because they were only getting better at evading them. Like they were _evolving_.

"Keep looking. Send one of your men to Naboo in a month's time. I will expect a full report. And I will expect some _news._ "

His ears perked as he heard a soft scuffling outside the walls. Were the Sith Troopers getting restless? Were his endeavors to maintain order somehow _boring_ for them? His fists curled.

On'fortaa twisted uncomfortably in his seat. "Your Excellency...if there is no Resistance, then there is no news we can give. And what better news than to say that they are gone?"

"I don't forget that your network allied with the Republic once, On'fortaa," Kylo clipped, voice dripping with warning.

"I was not Spymaster then, Your Immensity; I am but a loyal and humble servant to your Order."

Was he going to come up with a different title for the Emperor every time he opened his mouth to speak? Kylo didn't have time for this. He stood, eager to get out of the room. To get away from On'fortaa. 

"Send a man," he instructed again. "Look harder. If you-"

But Kylo couldn't finish. He heard the sound of the door behind him flying open, rattling forcefully as it clattered the wall. Before he could turn, there was light. He was blinded by brightness first. And then the sound followed—a deafening explosion. His lungs filled with smoke in the same moment his body was thrown into the air. Something large splintered his side. He couldn't see a thing, but he felt the moment something large and sharp punctured him, entering through his oblique, tearing through muscle, and spurting out of his back. He thought he heard On'fortaa scream. He couldn't be sure.

Kylo Ren was unconscious by the time he hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I have a fancast for the Knights of Ren and if I get drunk enough I'll share it because I think it's basically genius


	7. The Blood of the Emperor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for blood, violence, and injury description. Also! This chapter involves troopers killing civilians. Given the shitty, shitty state of the world right now, please don't read this if that is going to remind you too much of the awful circumstances happening in real life.
> 
> Take care of yourselves, and please stay safe this week if you live in America like me. If anyone needs to talk about the general fear going around right now, my DM's are open. I know that I, personally, am fucking terrified and honestly, I'm a bit of a wreck right now. I hope you all are doing alright, and I love you dearly.

You'd been spending a lot of time in the observatory. There, it was easy to avoid the Emperor and pretend that you didn't have responsibilities.

The only progress you'd made lied in the fact that you were now permitted to attend briefings. However, after your interrogation with the Emperor, you'd refused to show up, your mission be damned. You spent most of your free time in the observatory or study, if not in your room, taking your meals alone and seeing as few people as possible. After the interrogation...well, you didn't look, or feel, your best. You'd succeeded in staving the Emperor off just enough so he wouldn't be aware you were resisting him, but you honestly weren't sure how you'd done it. You'd had months upon months of practice with Finn, but having your mind prodded by both men had only proven how vastly different the two different sensations were. The Force was _personal._ Which was fascinating.

And horrifying.

Finn's powers had ripped jaggedly through your mind, sending welts of sharp pain through your brain.

But Kylo Ren...his powers were heavier. More sustained, and all the more agonizing. He had a way of making you feel like your entire body was being slowly crushed, all while a low ache settled into your skull, festering and pounding until it made you think your brain was going to ooze out of your eye sockets.

It was the most terrifying thing you'd ever experienced.

And even so, remarkably, he'd managed to find probably the most obscure, unnecessary, _humiliating_ piece of information he could have possibly found.

You hated him like you'd never hated him before, which was saying something, because you'd certainly never been fond of the guy. But more than anything, you hated _yourself_. There you were, being tortured, and somewhere, existing in the sidelines of your mind, waiting to burst forth, was some kind of intrigue into the man who was cleaving open your brain. The memory of your tongue drenching his fingers, and feeling them near the back of your throat...

A part of you wished you were blinded by the fear, but you weren't. Because now, you felt something else.

Fear.

Never before had you been afraid of the Emperor like you were afraid of him now.

It was all you could think about. That, and how you were going to keep avoiding him. The anxiety was manifesting in your body. You were sitting in the conference room, along with a handful of other officials. It was the first, and possibly the last meeting you'd attend, because it was the one time that Kylo Ren was gone. He was on Bothawui, or so you'd heard. But honestly, you didn't care where he was.

All that mattered was that he was gone, and you had a break from his shadow, even if only for a little while.

You weren't even really listening to what everybody was saying. It was hard to focus when all you could think about was Kylo Ren staring intently into your eyes while watching the mouth-fucking scene from the throne room play out in your mind.

The officials were debating the likelihood of the Resistance returning, and to your pleasant surprise, nobody seemed to think that the rebellion would be making a comeback anytime soon. Once you knew that your cover and the safety of virtually everyone you loved was protected for the time being, it all grew very boring. It sounded like more of their fleet had been destroyed than you or anyone in the Resistance realized. That was good news, at least. You'd been yearning for one single, solitary win, and you supposed that was it.

Another good piece of information was the identity of the Grand Moff. After Kylo Ren and Pryde, she was the highest ranking official on the ship. In the whole Order, actually. She was severe and curt and during the meeting, pretty much pretended you didn't exist. But you knew she was an important figure to keep an eye on.

Anxiously, you tapped your fingers on the table. No one really seemed to care that you were there, nor did they ask you any questions. You were actually yearning for the meeting to be over, when suddenly, a young man in uniform burst into the room.

He wasn't a 'trooper, but you could tell from his badge (and from his body language, no less) that he wasn't a man of high rank. Instantly, you sat up in your seat. It occurred to you that it was probably quite unusual for lower-ranking officials in the Order to burst in on high-security meetings.

"Grand Moff, there's been a distress call on Bothawui."

Bothawui. That was all anyone needed to hear. 

Because that was the planet that Ren was visiting. 

Suddenly, everyone was on their feet, and the Grand Moff was swiftly exiting the room.

"Prepare the transports," she said, without looking back.

Never in your life had you envisioned yourself power-walking down the bridge of a Final Order star-destroyer with several high-ranking officials in tow. But you hung to the back of the group, and no one was asking you to leave. Probably because nobody remembered that you were even there. You were actually kind of shocked when you boarded the transport and nobody kicked you off. But the Grand Moff, along with two other officials and a nurse, rushed deeper into the ship before they could even see that you boarded, and no 'troopers on the hangar stopped you.

As the ramp to the transport rose, you were met with the view of countless 'troopers—donned in both red and white—preparing their ships. 

Hell was about to descend upon Bothawui.

━━━━━━*.·: **·**.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Thank the Gods you'd worn pants that day, because the Moff and the Sith Troopers exited that ship so kriffing fast that you had to sprint to keep up with them.

You'd heard it was a grenade. Whoever had signaled for help aboard Ren's transport had either died just after making the distress call, or disappeared, which was unlikely. There was no one there to greet you when you landed. Kylo Ren would be completely alone.

When you first stepped foot on Bothawui, you were stunned by how quiet it was. The only thing you could hear was the grass brushing against 'trooper boots as they scanned the area, guns raised, fanning out in a large circle around you and the other officials. You held your breath, giving the area a visual scan, searching for the Emperor.

As the officials and their guards set off in the direction of the village, you realized that no one was keeping tabs on you. You knit your brow and followed them of your own volition, beginning to realize how woefully disorganized the Order seemed to be under pressure.

When you reached the Grand Moff, she was kneeling. Running to catch up with her, your stomach tightened to see she had found someone, unmoving and lying in the grass. You weren't sure if it was a civilian, or maybe a 'trooper who'd taken off his outer armor and helmet. 

The Grand Moff whipped her head around, and her eyes landed on someone beside you. Still, it was like you weren't even there.

"Get the medical capsule at once!" She shouted.

The nurse who had been standing just off of your shoulder turned and ran, flanked by guards. Holding your breath, you rounded the body to get a better look at who was lying on the ground.

Whoever it was, you'd never seen him before in your life. His hair was dark and matted with sweat, or maybe blood, draping over his face and partially obscuring his features. But under the long, obsidian-colored locks, you could make out a prominent nose, long, elegant lashes that lined his closed eyes, pillowy lips--

But before your mind could even continue racing, you jolted as a Sith Trooper appeared with a repulsorlift medical capsule, the nurse on his heels. All you could do was watch as he, the Moff, and the nurse lifted the unconscious man onto the stretcher.

That was when the confusion began to dissipate. And pure shock began to set in.

His size, let alone his armor, should have immediately told who the man in lying on the stretcher was. But when you'd looked at his face, you'd only seen a stranger. Your heart leapt into your throat.

The man on the medical capsule was Kylo Ren.

You could barely breathe, watching intently as the nurse turned him onto his side. That was when you saw the large, wooden splinter, at least six inches long, sticking out of his torso.

Your stomach roiled.

"We should get him onboard-" you began.

But the Moff had turned around, and she was scanning the skies. "Where's the medical transport?" She growled. "Get him onto the ship and wait for the medics!"

You stood dumbly as you watched them guide the hovering stretcher back towards the way you came. You weren't sure if you should follow. And only when they were all gone did you feel like you could finally breathe again.

But the instant you began to calm down was the same instant you realized that you were standing alone in what was about to become a battleground. You'd seen the Sith Troopers readying their ships. You saw them loading their arsenal. They'd be looking for rebels. Civilians. Anyone to blame. Some of them were already here, searching. You held your breath as you looked over your shoulders, and once you were sure nobody was watching, you sprinted for the tree-line behind the cantina, ready to tell any hiding civilians to run for their lives.

The cantina was blown out on one side. It must have been a low-range grenade, or maybe it malfunctioned. Maybe a 'trooper threw himself on top of it just before it detonated. You had no idea. No one seemed to have a clue what had happened. Still, the back wall was completely blasted out, and the Emperor had been found a full ten feet away at the very least. You turned again. The Sith Troopers were searching farther down the path. 

There were no civilians hiding behind the cantina, as far as you could tell. But the second you decided to head back to the ship was the same instant you felt a hand clamp over your mouth. Your scream was muffled as it ripped from your throat, and before anyone could see you, you were dragged into the depths of the tree line.

You kicked your legs madly, shrieking into the hand that was plastered over your lips, too panicked to cry. But as soon as the Order was out of sight, your captor stilled, and you stopped screaming long enough to hear your own name breathed into your ear.

You'd have known that voice anywhere. Your eyes went wider than the moons, and you stopped struggling. Feeling the sudden stillness in your body, the hand lifted from your mouth, and you spun around, not bothering to put any distance between you and the man you had grabbed you.

"Evander," you choked, the word nearly catching in your throat. Without even a second though, you lurched forward, throwing your arms around his neck.

You released a sob the moment you felt his hands gripping your sides, arms squishing you against his body. You hadn't felt the warmth of another human in weeks, but it had felt like an eternity. Even the sound of his ragged breaths was comforting.

You pulled away only so you could take a look at him. It's not like he would have changed in under a fortnight, but he did appear to look a little more weathered. Your heart soared.

"You have a new uniform," you breathed.

He cracked a smile, revealing a straight row of flawless, glimmering teeth. His hazel eyes were gleaming, too. Every part of him was bright, illuminating even the dark forest you found yourself standing in.

"Got promoted," he told you, one corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other. He was growing out his mustache, too, but it wasn't overwhelming. You liked it. You ran a hand down the side of his face, grinning widely.

"Right," you breathed.

"Is the Emperor dead?"

Your brow twitched. "W-what?"

"The attack. The grenade malfunctioned. Did it work? Is he dead?"

You shook your head, suddenly understanding that it was your people who'd tried to kill Kylo Ren.

"N-no. One of the 'troopers lived, and signaled for help."

"So, he's alive?"

You nodded stiffly.

"Will he survive?"

"I don't know."

Evander cast his gaze to the side, and his lips twisted in frustration. But after a few moments, he nodded too, and with a sudden urgency, he slipped away from you, grabbing your hand and pulling you deeper into the forest. He stopped only once you were better guarded by trees and brush. "I have this for you," he said, taking out a slip of folded paper from one of his many pockets, handing it to you. "Be ready. I'll be waiting for you in Naboo."

"Evander," you told him, shaking your head. "I'm confused. You tried to kill the Emperor? The Resistance isn't ready. What do you think will happen to me if he dies?"

"We intercepted the transport signal. We had to try," he said, giving you a remorseful look.

"You were nearby?"

He breathed your name, brow twitching, and he took your hands. "I'm following you to Naboo."

"What?"

"A whole squad of us."

In disbelief, you shook your head, but let the sudden spark of happiness in your chest overtake you. Your face broke out into a grin, and you genuinely felt like you were about to cry. "I thought the Queen Mother said that would be too dangerous."

"Promoted," he reminded you. "Pulled some strings. I insisted that our little princess was too precious not to be watched."

His hand went to cup your cheek. You exhaled on a sheepish laugh, but pulled his hand away, glancing towards your feet. "I'm not some little princess, Evander."

"Believe me. I know that."

"Look," you told him. "You have to promise me that you won't try and kill Kylo Ren again. Trust me. The Resistance isn't ready."

"Yeah. Not a great first move as commander. But we've planted intel that these are common rebellions, not Resistance operations."

"Evander...you have to be more careful. If the Emperor dies, there's a whole room of people ready to take his place. Promise me you won't strike again until you're ready to kill _all_ of them."

"I promise. And I'll take whatever grief Leia wants to give me. I guess I deserve that much."

"You're so impulsive," you whispered, shaking your head, though feeling better that it seemed your message got through to him. As chaotic as Evander could be, he could at least admit when he was wrong, and change his behaviors. Maybe that's what made him so vastly different from the Emperor. "But don't let her be too hard on you."

Evander was staring at you, but shouts in the not-so-far-off distance made your entire body tense. You looked over your shoulder in the same instant that he seized your wrist and yanked you into a bone-crushing hug. "Read the briefing. Destroy it when you're done."

You pulled away, and shoved the note into your bra. You gave him one last look. "Find me in Naboo."

"I'll be waiting, Princess," he said, giving you one of his famously mischievous smiles.

With that, you turned on your heel and sprinted towards the clearing, leaving Evander to disappear into the woods, blaster held firmly at his side.

You were heaving with air the moment you stepped onto the scene, which had only grown more chaotic; at first you panicked, thinking someone would want to question you about where you'd run off to. But in all honesty, everything unfolding before you was such a mess, that it didn't seem that anyone even noticed that you were gone. You held your breath as you watched citizens of Bothawui sprint for the hills. Wherever they were hiding, the 'troopers had found them, and you could tell from the whir of air drumming above your head that more were coming. With your mouth agape, a Sith Trooper standing next to you aimed his gun, shooting down three people fleeing down the trail, headed for the distance. Only when they fell face-down, dead, did the 'trooper turn to look at you. Your stomach lurched.

"Princess, are you harmed?"

"No," you spurted, throat tightening in shock.

"Get back to the ship."

Fervently, you nodded, watching him sprint away from you, deeper into Bothawui. You glanced over your shoulder again as you pumped your legs. You shouldn't have. Everywhere you looked, there were either dead bodies lying in the grass and crude dirt roads, or more innocent civilians being shot down by 'troopers as they ran for their lives. The soldiers were tearing them from buildings, dragging them out of their own front doors. Turning back towards the shuttle, you saw that more transports were landing. Your ears were filled with the deafening sound of air stirring as ships landed only yards away from where you stood.

One of them, an enormous, black hunk of metal, landed not twenty feet to your right. You stared and watched as the ramp lowered. The Knights of Ren had arrived, and they were ascending onto Bothawui.

Onto a murder scene.

The 'troopers were clearly scanning the area for any potential insurrectionists and systematically wiping them out. You could only hope that Evander had secure means of escape.

You broke into a run once again after feeling your legs falter, but barely made it a few steps before you saw something lying in the grass. At first, you thought it was just a rock. Against your better judgment, you paused, squinting into the darkness, noticing that this "rock" seemed to be threaded with coursing red veins.

Kylo Ren's helmet.

You gasped and bent down to take the hunk of metal in between your fingers, grasping it tightly as you made a break for the ships.

Pausing again when you reached the uneven line of transports, you turned around wildly, until you found a man in uniform. You recognized him from the meeting, but didn't know his rank.

"Where's Kylo Ren?" You asked him.

"Aboard the medical shuttle. You're supposed to be with him, go!"

You broke into a sprint without another word. You'd had a lot to say about the power that the Final Order possessed, but as you ran from the chaos erupting around you, it dawned on you how many cracks there were in their foundation. Everything had gone to shit entirely too quickly. Maybe they weren't as stable as you thought.

It was the one hope you were able to hold onto as you as sprinted up the ramp to the medical transport, feeling your feet give out from under you, basically crawling onboard. You scrambled on your hands and knees to reach the back wall, feeling what felt like several hands—soldiers and 'troopers trying to drag you inside. You dropped Kylo Ren's helmet, forgetting that you'd been holding it, and didn't even process the sound of the metal clanking onto the floor.

You didn't even try to stand up, but stayed firmly crouched on the ground, legs weak and trembling, black plastered to the far wall. You watched as the nurse, the same from earlier, finished hooking Kylo up to an IV of blood. He was still unconscious, but since they were tending to him, and no one seemed to be in an outright panic, you assumed he was alive. You swallowed thickly, and startled when you felt the ship rise into the air.

You looked around. You were surrounded by medical droids and the Grand Moff, who you'd hoped to escape. But you were guessing she wasn't going to let the Emperor out of her sight. You stood onto shaking legs, walking over where the Emperor lied in the center of the room.

Wide-eyed, you stared at a barely conscious Kylo Ren, writhing weakly on top of the stretcher, and your mind raced trying to pair the face before to the creature in the mask. Your eyes trailed over his sharp features: his slightly hooked nose, full, almost _gentle_ looking lips, strong, drawn brow...you tried to recognize him. But he just didn't look a thing like you imagined he would.

What shocked you most of all was his youthfulness. He couldn't be older than his late-twenties, _maybe_ his early thirties. You'd expected such a tireless dictator to be weathered and grizzled. But he was barely more than a boy.

And he was dying.

The nurse leaned over Kylo Ren and examined the stake impaled in his side. Her hands trembled as they hovered over the hunk of wood, as if she was trying to figure out what to do. You pinched your brow, and your stomach surged with panic.

"I have to pull it out through the front," she muttered, voice shaking just as much as her fingers. Still, she seemed unsure of how to proceed. You looked over your shoulder. You were so close to the ship

You felt yourself leaning forward on your feet, having the sudden urge to do something, anything. You were watching the Emperor die. This nurse was not young. You were sure she had years of experience, and her sharp features and pristine uniform told you that she knew her stuff. 

You also got the impression that she had never operated on the Emperor before. She was cracking under pressure. Killing Kylo Ren was your job. Now, someone was about to do it for you.

On the other hand, if the Emperor was gone, there was no telling what would happen to you. And the Resistance wasn't ready to attack yet. You needed more information. You still needed to gain his trust. He couldn't die yet.

But honestly, you weren't thinking about that. You weren't thinking about all the reasons you'd given Evander not to try to kill him again, when you leapt forward. You moved purely on impulse, mind empty, as you charged towards the nurse, just as she grabbed the thickest end of the stake.

"Let me help you," you blurted.

Her eyes snapped up to meet yours. "Excuse me?" She sounded defensive. But you couldn't help but notice that her hands were still rattling.

"The end is splintered! You need to cut off the end before you pull it through—you could kill him if you're not careful!"

The woman looked from the between you and the stake, several times, lip trembling. "I-I-yes, of course! I was about to do that, I-"

"Someone see the princess out!" Someone commanded from behind you.

For a moment, you thought it was over. But then, without turning around, you heard a harsh, female voice. The Grand Moff. "Let her proceed."

You didn't waste a moment. "Get me a scalpel," you told the nurse, ready to raise hell if she argued. She held your gaze for a moment before scurrying away to the medical cart, returning in an instant and holding the blade out to you. Her eyes were cold as the bored back into yours. She was clearly furious, but needed you to succeed. She would be punished for choking.

But she'd be killed if he died under her watch.

You placed a hand on the Emperor's shoulder before leaning over to get a better look at his back. He was still lying on his side, so your visual was as good as it was going to get. The stake was obviously a chunk of the wall or the door, maybe even a decorative piece that had been mounted, and ended up acting as a projectile once the grenade had gone off. Whatever it was, it was splintery. He'd need surgery, if you had to guess, but you weren't a nurse. It had entered through his oblique, and staked his body at a slightly diagonal angle, poking jaggedly out of his lower back. It didn't look to have hit any vital organs. The front end was too big to pull it out the back—that wasn't an option. The back, though, was splintered and frayed.

You cleared your throat. Blood and guts had never bothered you, but you'd also never removed a six-inch long piece of wood from someone's body. As your fingers trailed the wound and the weapon, you saw that they were getting coated with blood far too easily. 

You inhaled fervently through your nose, holding your breath as you began the incision. Gripping the part that stuck out his back, you cut a clean line through the stake, slicing off the frayed, excess wood. You were clenching your teeth, you realized, and your form was not good. But it was enough. You choked out an exhale after you'd sawed everything off. A nice, non-splintery nub was now protruding from the Emperor's back. You stood upright, now focused solely on the notch that stuck out the front.

"Okay," you whispered, mostly to yourself. You hardly noticed the nurse that rushed towards the other side, ready to apply pressure to the wound. "Okay," you murmured again, realizing to you shaking.

Clenching your teeth again, you placed one hand on his shoulder, and the other on the end of the stake.

Your muscles tensed, arm twitching, ready to pull.

That was when you saw Kylo Ren open his eyes.

You stopped breathing, and every muscle in your body froze. Your eyes snatched towards his, and he swallowed your gaze with rich, brown irises. His jaw was flexing with tension, nostrils slightly flared, as if he was in pain, but swallowing it down. Otherwise, he was still and remarkably calm. Outrageously intense, but calm.

Trying to find your breath, you gripped his shoulder harder, as if trying to steady yourself. Yesterday, you'd never even seen his face. You hadn't even been convinced that he was human. In all honestly, he'd seemed more like a droid. Now, he was staring up at you with large, dark eyes, drinking you down and relying on your steady hand for his life. Your gaze moved from his eyes to the wound, back and forth, waiting for the courage to find you like it had when the Emperor hadn't been looking at you. 

With the smallest of grunts, Ren shifted on the medical capsule just a hairsbreadth, and his hand found your bicep. You gripped each other, breathing heavily.

He gave you a small nod. You returned despite the fact that he could see your teeth chattering. Your fingers tightened around the stake once more. You grunted softly as you began to pull it free.

You went quickly but not too quickly, trying to ensure nothing ripped. Ren tensed visibly, but he barely made a single noise. Your brow knit at his apparent ability to ignore the sensation of pain, and you were suddenly more concerned that he wasn't screaming.

And you wondered how many times Kylo Ren had swallowed down his pain.

But you pulled it free, and let it clatter to the ground. And when it was over, you felt like you were more relieved than the Emperor. Your knees buckled and you gripped the edge of the medical capsule for support—your one saving grace from collapsing to the ground. You noticed Ren's grip tighten around your shoulder. Brow knit, you lifted your lead to look at him. He was stirring softly, and he held your gaze for a moment before his eyes fluttered shut.

Your eyes darted to the now opened wound, stomach turning when you saw blood was coming out of the gaping hole in his armor and torso like a small waterfall. "Fuck," you mumbled, and instantly pressed your hands to the source of the bleeding, ignoring the nurse doing the same on the other side. Your eyes were glued to Kylo Ren. His lashes were fluttering softly.

You opened your mouth to speak, and instantly felt as if you were going to be sick.

Luckily, you didn't even have to speak. "Grand Moff," said a voice from behind you, but you barely even heard it, as if the words had been spoken underwater. You didn't dare move from the Emperor, or even look over your shoulder. Your stare upon Kylo Ren's face was unmovable. "The medical droids appear to be in order. This was not a sophisticated attack."

"Very well," she said, voice stony and deep. You definitely didn't want to get on this woman's bad side, and made a mental note of that for later. "Have him prepped for surgery." There was the scuffling of feet behind you, and then, a hand around your bicep. You didn't even look to see who was gently urging you away from the Emperor. As you stumbled backwards, you watched, only half-processing the swarm of people descending upon Kylo Ren. The medical droids burst to life. And you knew you'd done all you could.

Your legs were shaking as you stumbled away, and you lifted your trembling hands to stare down at your palms. They were painted with blood. _His_ blood. You swallowed down the thought and made your way from the room, finding yourself in a corridor.

Only then did you allow yourself to breathe, throwing yourself at the nearest window just as you were sure you were about to collapse. The only thing you could make out from the ground below as you rose into the darkness was the fading glow of the 'troopers' blaster shots. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True to my word, I will be revealing my face-casts of the original characters in this story, one per chapter, starting now! I want to clarify, I'm not trying to create any association in real life of any actor to any character in my stories. This is just how I envision them most accurately. SO! That being said, today I give you...Finor! And if I had to cast Finor, I would cast none other than the sexy, the smoldering--Christopher Mason. Thank you all again for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Again, I'm sorry it's slow. I know we're already on chapter 7, but I promise you that massive things are coming and I couldn't be more excited. Next chapter is going to heavily feature interactions with Kylo Ren and our dearest protagonist, so get ready!


	8. Show Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT AN INCREDIBLE DAY!!!!! I don't want to take away from the monumental history being made today, but the results of the election literally skyrocketed me with happiness and motivation to finish this chapter and to continue working on what I love. Hoping this brings you some more joy. Love you guys!
> 
> The dress you're wearing during ~that scene~ is Ralph and Russo's autumn/winter look 39:
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5b/48/bb/5b48bb627f2208f3984346ee182f811a.jpg
> 
> Warnings: Just uhhhh keep in mind that Kylo's behaviors are...not good. He is not nice. There will be a bit of physical roughness in this chapter. Please steer clear if that is triggering for you.

  
You'd spent the duration of the journey back to the Steadfast tucked away in the main hold, sitting alone and keeping quiet so no one would bother you. And no one did. The one downside of that lied in the fact that no one told you where you could wash your hands. But you felt too numb to take the liberty of finding a place to wash on your own. So you sat there for the entire ride back, stained with the Emperor's blood.

But as numb as you felt, you couldn't quite shut off your brain. Everything felt strange and surreal, but your mind was still racing. Because Kylo Ren had let you touch him. More than that—he'd depended on you to save his life. He'd gripped your arm and let you hold him right back, a silent exchange of bravery and permission between the both of you. You'd stared quite literally _into_ his body, and in a strange way, you felt more bonded with him that you thought you ever would.

You sighed and tried to remind yourself that it was all for nothing. He was barely conscious, and probably wouldn't even remember it.

Just as you landed, the Grand Moff came to thank you personally for saving Kylo Ren's life, though given her stoic expression, you didn't get the sense that she was brimming with gratefulness. But with any luck, you may have scored a few points with the Final Order.

That was enough for you to feel better about your mission. And you realized that it seemed you'd changed your mind about giving up on it without even realizing.

It wasn't enough, however, for the officials to allow you to accompany Kylo Ren any longer. Once back aboard the Steadfast, you were immediately asked to return to your quarters, and advised to rest up. You stood feeling strangely defeated on the hangar, watching the floating capsule lift the Emperor to the infirmary.

Shockingly, you slept well that night. It was early in the morning when you returned, and you slept all the way up until noon. You would have slept longer, but you were abruptly awoken from your slumber by an urgent rapping on your door.

Sitting up in bed, you dragged a hand down your sleepy face, feeling how dewy your skin was with sweat, and how matted your hair felt at the side of your face. Honestly, it may have been the best sleep you'd had since boarding the Steadfast.

You watched through sleep-hooded eyes as a 'trooper walked into your room.

And you were shocked to find that this one was wearing red.

Confused, you felt your brow pinch.

"Princess," he greeted.

"Where's the guy who usually guards my door?"

"The Emperor has insisted that you be guarded by Sith Troopers from this point onward."

Involuntarily, your brows lifted. It weirdly felt like getting a promotion—Sith Trooper guard was a step-up from regular-buckethead guard. But in the same instant, you knew not to be flattered. It only made sense for the Order to crack down on security after the attack.

"He's awake?" You asked, realizing that it was Kylo Ren himself who gave the order.

"Yes, Your Highness, and he wishes to see you at once."

If possible, your brows lifted higher. "Oh," you responded. "Alright...let me dress, and I'll, uh...be right out."

The Sith Trooper nodded and turned on his heel, exiting the room. As he did, you caught sight of the outrageously enormous blaster that hung on his hip. You hoped the Order wouldn't be upping their arsenal any more than they already had. They outgunned the Resistance as it was.

You dressed in a simple white gown, the quickest and easiest thing you could throw on. Then, you headed to the refresher to make yourself presentable. The bags under your eyes had relented, and there was even some color returning to your skin. You were still feeling the effects of your interrogation, and you lacked a certain luster that had been there before. But you were clean and fresh and you almost even felt decent-looking. You exited the refresher without being too hard on yourself, and went to meet the Sith Trooper in the corridor.

Instead of being met by one guard, though, you were met with six. Six menacing looking Sith Troopers had arrived to escort you to Kylo Ren's quarters.

You swallowed down your surprise, especially when you realized they were somehow carrying a different...energy. You couldn't put your finger on it, but for some reason, you felt less like a prisoner and more like...an Empress. It felt like they were there to guard you, not to keep an eye on you.

Apparently, Kylo Ren had been moved back to his quarters mid-morning, basically the second he was no longer in critical condition. Apparently, it wasn't a good look to have the Emperor cooped up in an infirmary. You could hardly blame him for wanting to leave it as soon as possible. News of his nearly life-ending injury was spreading aboard the Steadfast, and you could sense the rumblings of unease. That was the only piece of information you were able to squeeze from the 'troopers.

Steadily, you made your way to Kylo Ren's quarters. He had taken the liberty of setting up your apartment almost as far as humanly possible for his. That left you with nearly a twenty-five minute walk to the highest security sector of the ship. Twenty-five silent, tense, awkward moments.

As you neared the Emperor's private quarters, it became increasingly clear that you'd never even come near this part of the Steadfast before. The walls and floors weren't charcoal gray or sterile white on this part of the vessel. Everything was a shade or two darker. It seemed that the Emperor had taken his alignment with the Force more literally than you previously thought.

When you rounded the corner to finally reach the blast door that led to his private apartments, you were shocked to see another dozen 'troopers stationed outside. And you found yourself wondering where the hell they'd found all of these men. How could the Order possibly have so many loyalists at their disposal? How could so many people side with pure evil?

Only when you walked forward did they pass. They must have been expecting you. You felt timid as you approached the doors. But it seemed that they all knew the Emperor had asked for you personally. The door opened, and you stepped inside.

The first thing you were met with was more blackness. The shade of the walls nearly enveloped every small source of light in the room. Your eyes focused, and you realized you were standing in a dimly lit entryway.

Everything was black and reflective and scarcely decorated. You found yourself wondering what the point of an entryway was if there wasn't a thing inside of it.

You heard the doors hiss shut behind you, and in the same moment, you realized how very alone you were. You looked around. There were no 'troopers inside. There was _nothing_ inside, not even an Emperor. You cleared your throat, and realized his quarters must be substantially larger than yours. You'd have to find his bedroom. Slowly, you began to walk. Even though he'd sent for you, it felt enormously like you were breaking the rules by being there, by wandering through his massive apartment.

Only when you'd crossed the entire distance of the entryway did you see an opening on your right. You turned your head, and realized you were looking through an opened door. You held your breath, and you stepped through the threshold.

Kylo Ren was lying in bed, leaning against the headboard. The first thing you noticed was the fact that his eyes were closed, and you worried that he was sleeping.

You swallowed thickly. If he was asleep, then that was annoying. It pissed you off, knowing he sent for you, and you'd walked practically a full half-hour to reach him, only for him to be unconscious. Or rather, it _should_ have pissed you off. Inexplicably, you found yourself taking slow, quiet steps to reach his bedside. Close, but not _too_ close. You left a few feet in between, hoping he wouldn't sense you there and wake up. You really didn't want to speak with him.

Holding your air in your lungs, you stared down at him, at the blanket tucked around his waist, at his relaxed features. 

For some reason, you realized that you'd expected him to be wearing his mask. Because when you were met with his face, you noticed you'd already forgotten what he looked like, and once again, it felt akin to staring at someone you'd never met. It would take a while to get used to those features, get used to that face. Or maybe it wouldn't. You supposed that as soon as he was healed, he'd hide himself away once more, and you'd be left to deal with the faceless creature all over again.

You supposed that was all the more reason to enjoy it while it lasted. Because he was handsome. And not only that, but seeing him without his mask only served to remind you that he was an actual person. 

You sighed through your nose, suddenly feeling odd. You didn't want to look at Kylo Ren. You didn't want to _like_ looking at Kylo Ren. You didn't want to like anything about him. He was a killer. He was evil, he was everything that was wrong with the galaxy, and you were the one who had to clean it all up. So you turned on your heel and headed for the door.

"I didn't say you could leave."

Your eyes went wide, and the words yanked you back, tethering you to the spot. It felt like you'd been smacked on the head, and suddenly, all you could do was stand there, planted to the spot, unable to turn back to him.

Because it was the first time you'd ever heard his voice—his _true_ voice.

Without the mask, you almost didn't recognize it. Before, it had been gravelly. Without it, it was deep and rich. He sounded like any of the other men you'd grown up with, every Royal Hapan guard or Resistance fighter. And above all else, it was so painfully _normal_ that suddenly, you were filled with confusion and conflict.

You held your breath as you turned around to face him, and your pulse skyrocketed when you found him staring into your soul.

"You returned my helmet." The words were blank and emotionless, but he carried something in his eyes. It was nothing beyond curiosity, but even that was enough to stir something inside of your chest.

"Yeah."

"They tell me you were separated from the group. That you nearly got caught in the crossfire."

"I did."

"You ran into the battlefield unarmed."

"I didn't run anywhere. I saw your helmet, got turned around, and when I was going back to the ship, suddenly there were just...'troopers. Everywhere. Shooting people, and..." you sighed, allowing your voice to trail off. You were too tired to go on.

"So, you didn't run. You went back for my helmet, unarmed."

You have him a flat look. "Need I remind you how I was relieved of my weapons?"

One of the corners of the Emperor's lips twitched. You couldn't tell if it was the beginning of a smile or a frown. Even without his mask, he was maybe the most unreadable human you'd ever met. "No," was his only response.

You inhaled through your nose, and felt your nostrils flare slightly. "Yes, okay?" you sighed. "I went back for your helmet, and I was unarmed. The only reason I was in danger was because of...of all of your men _shooting_ innocent civilians."

"Those civilians blew up a cantina filled with people. I would argue that they're far less innocent than the patrons who died as a result of their bloodlust."

"You don't know that," you breathed. "You don't know anything about what happened or who attacked you, and now you never will, because all the witnesses are dead."

Kylo's brows furrowed deeper, his rich, brown irises suddenly shortened by his narrowing eyelids. He was staring at you with a face drawn in an expression you didn't recognize.

"Can I go now?" You asked.

"No."

You huffed, fighting the urge to stamp your foot. Nothing about this situation was easy for you. "Your Majesty?" you tried again.

"You don't want to stay?"

"No."

His features set with quiet determination and curiosity as he stared at you. Seeing his face made you all the more uneasy. And unfortunately, it made your quest to hate him all the more difficult. 

"Don't lie to me," he said coolly.

"Get out of my head," you spat.

"I don't have to be in your head to know that you don't want to leave."

"I _do_ want to leave."

"I don't care what you want," he responded, tilting his head to the side as he swallowed you down with an impenetrable, dark gaze. His brow was drawn, inquisitive. Seeing at him stare at you like that—like you both infuriated and fascinated him— _did_ make it difficult to leave. "What matters is what _I_ want."

"And what's that, oh mighty Emperor?" You scoffed.

He narrowed his eyes further as he stared at you. This time, a trace of annoyance was detectable on his brow, and in the tension of his jaw as he spoke. 

"For you to stay," he responded evenly. Though his tone made it difficult to believe.

Gulping, you smoothed down the front of your dress and lowered yourself into the chair at his bedside with a huff. You didn't know if you should be infuriated or flattered that the Emperor wanted your company. If you were being honest, you were both. 

"You look unwell," he told you suddenly.

You swallowed down your sudden urge to punch him. "I've felt like shit ever since your little interrogation stunt," you bit back.

"You're still angry with me," he pondered, tilting his head again as he watched you.

You exhaled on a scoff. "Well, I'll tell you what—your powers of deduction are unbelievable," you murmured. You snatched your gaze away from him, moving it to stare at the door on the far wall. Meanwhile, you kept trying to convince yourself that you wanted to leave.

"You're an outsider on my ship, and a fool if you don't understand why I had to search your mind for potential threats to my life."

"That's what you call it? 'Searching my mind for threats?' I think we both know that's hardly what you were doing," you breathed, turning to look away from him. You couldn't bear to feel the weight of his gaze for another second, or you feared you would burn through your skin. 

"My only intent was to look through your thoughts. Whatever thoughts may be there aren't my responsibility," he hummed, lips muttering softly as he spoke. "What if you were with the Resistance? What if you'd been sent here as a spy, and I hadn't looked into your mind, just in case?"

 _Then I'd kill you_ , you thought.

But you bit down on your tongue, clearing your throat. "I think you're giving too much credit to the Resistance," you lied.

He hummed, and looked away. You pinched your brow. Seconds ago, he'd been opening up to you, or explaining his actions at the very least. That was more than you ever expected of him. Now, you could practically feel him shutting you out.

"What," you snapped.

"You sound like General Pryde."

"Ew." You turned to look at your lap again.

The Emperor ignored your little joke, or at least decided to let it slide for the time being. "I barely made it out of Bothawui alive, and my advisors still think that the Resistance isn't a threat."

"You should listen to your advisors."

"Do you think it was the Resistance who attacked?"

"Me?" You blurted, head whipping around to stare at him. And you see that he was looking at you again, too.

Curtly, he nodded. "When you're my Empress, you may be the most important advisor I have. I want to know if _you_ think it was the Resistance that tried to have me killed."

You held your breath inside your lungs. Was this...trust? If it was, you know it wasn't willful, or at least personal. It was political. In the days leading up to the attack on Bothawui, you were so furious about the interrogation that you didn't stop to consider that he had decided you were reliable. You furrowed your brow, and straightened your back a little bit, trying to ignore the sound of him referring to you as " _my Empress_."

You swallowed thickly, realizing suddenly how heavy you felt with the burden of his misplaced trust on your shoulders. Shifting in your seat, you lifted your chin. "It wasn't a sophisticated attack," you told him. "I think instead of worrying about a rebellion that will take decades to be rebuilt, you should focus on your medical staff. You throw all your energy into building your weaponry and your fleet, but a lack of doctors nearly cost you your life."

The Emperor was holding your gaze, and didn't let it go when you stopped talking. You were left with nothing but heavy silence, and suddenly, you were wondering why you had given him honest council. Council that would actually be beneficial for him to use.

He narrowed his eyes, and you tensed. He didn't trust you. He was about to delve into your mind again, about to see that the Resistance was alive and well. That you were one of them. 

But to your surprise, he closed his eyes and settled back against his pillows. "Get out," he mumbled softly.

Your brow snatched into a deep furrow and you sat dumbly in your chair, thoroughly surprised. But there wasn't a shred of malice in his voice. Was that just how he _spoke_ to people? You released a scoff, raising yourself to your feet and shuffling towards the door.

"Come back tomorrow afternoon."

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around. But Kylo Ren hadn't opened his eyes. You weren't even sure you'd heard him correctly.

"What?"

He settled deeper against the mattress, folding his hands over his stomach. Still, he didn't open his eyes. "I won't ask you again, Princess."

You swallowed and nodded, even though he couldn't see you.

He could probably sense everything he needed to.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

The next day, you dressed in something nicer, telling yourself that you only did so because you had more time to prepare, and not because you gave two fucks about what Kylo Ren thought about your appearance.

" _You look unwell_ ," he'd said.

 _I'll show you unwell_ , you thought bitterly.

It was a gown that screamed Hapes, one that you might have worn for an evening stroll around the gardens, or a gala with ambassadors. Pale blue, smooth, and billowy, it was intricate around the neck and arms, but all in all, was a wrapped piece of fabric cinched at the waist by a braided cord of the same color. Your legs peeped through the front but were covered in the back, and a small portion of your chest was exposed. It was the starkest juxtaposition from what everyone in the Order wore—uniforms, either black or red. But you were from Hapes, not some cold-blooded outer-rim planet where they raised loyalist armies from birth.

You stepped out into the hallway, and it was the same as the day before. Unceremoniously, you were greeted by Sith Troopers, and you'd noticed that Kylo Ren must have ordered one or two more to be stained outside of your room at night. You took the lengthy walk to his quarters in silence.

At last, you arrived. And when you stepped into his room, alone, you expected to find him in bed. To his surprise, he wasn't. He was sitting, but not on the ground. Your jaw slipped open as you walked into his bedroom to find him cross-legged, levitating at least half a foot off the floor. But that wasn't all that gave you pause.

Your eyes fell upon his lightsaber, the plasma blade pulsating and shining so brightly, its distinct red color appeared white in the middle, where it burned the hottest. It was levitating too, laying horizontally about another six inches above his lap. You couldn't even hear his breath over the sound of his weapon buzzing with hunger. You felt your brows lift in shock and wonder. You'd never seen one up close before. And even if you had, it would have been a Jedi weapon. Certainly not a Sith one.

And then, you noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

You weren't a stranger to half-naked men, and you weren't even much of a stranger to _fully_ naked men. But seeing the Emperor without armor, or without any clothes black in color, really, made you feel like a bit of a creep somehow. Like you were peeping in on something that no one was meant to see.

Your eyes fell to the fresh scar at the side of his abdomen. It was healing nicely, lined with metallic stitches. And you were pained to admit it made him look like a true warrior.

Trying to hold your breath, you felt the sudden fear that you were disturbing him, or intruding. Why would he keep asking for you when he was busy, or resting? And if he knew you were coming, why not bother putting on some clothes?

Remembering that it was _his_ mistake to send for you in the middle of his meditation, you cleared your throat.

He cracked open an eye in response.

"You wanted me?" You asked, leaning in the doorway.

The Emperor didn't say anything for a few heavy moments. He opened his other eye, and just sat there, watching you in silence. You could have sworn his eyes trailed the length of your body, but you couldn't have been sure. His shoulders stiffened, and you watched with a small gasp as his lightsaber dropped. You were sure it was about to cut off his legs, but just in the nick of time, he caught it in his right hand, and clicked it off. The blade whirred as it shortened before disappearing altogether. He uncrossed a leg and his foot found the floor. Effortlessly, he walked straight back into the throngs of gravity, crossing the room without hesitation, pausing only when a few feet lied in between you.

"You're well again," you noted, gesturing vaguely towards him.

"You too."

"With every day you don't torture me, I get some color back in my cheeks," you deadpanned, tilting your head and folding your arms over your chest.

The Emperor's eyes narrowed. He huffed softly, before turning around, walking towards the wall until he was met with some kind of dark, stone mantle. He carefully placed down his lightsaber onto what appeared to be a kind of display case.

You took a step forward, peering over his shoulder from a safe distance.

"I've never seen your weapon before," you told him.

"Ideally, you won't have to see it again."

You felt your brow pinch, unsure if that meant you would never be sharing a room together, or if he was referring to you seeing it in action. Either way, you found yourself feeling disappointed. You knew you weren't here to fight, especially not for the Final Order.

And being a spy didn't make you a soldier.

Ren turned away from the mantle, or shrine, or whatever it was, and made his way to sit on the gray loveseat against the wall. The room was as scarcely furnished as it was decorated. If he wanted to sit and have a chat, you realized you'd either have to sit on his lap, or on the opposite side of the room.

But he didn't invite you to join him. He settled into the sofa, leaning against the wall and letting his head fall back against the surface.

"Why am I here?" You asked him.

Again, he cracked an eye open. "What do you mean?"

You scoffed. "I mean, why did you ask me here if you're just going to sit there and ignore me?"

"Because I wanted to. Because I can."

Again, you scoffed, a breath of disbelief kicking out of your throat. "It's starting to seem like you're ordering me around just because you love being allowed to tell me to do whatever you want."

Ren raised his head, staring at you full-on, now. You gulped.

"I am. I do."

His brow twitched. You didn't know whether to feel afraid or angry or intrigued. But you didn't have to choose. You felt all of them.

"You know I don't have to do whatever you say. I'm your fiancé, not your prisoner."

"Is there a difference?"

"You want to find out?" You asked, lifting your brow.

You thought that might make him angry, but on the contrary, he only looked curious. He tilted his head, gazing at you, though there was something empty and unreachable about his eyes. Finally, he stood, and paced slowly about the room, hands clasped behind his back. "You're very loud-mouthed, aren't you?"

"Thanks," you quipped.

He ignored it. "When they told me they were sending me a princess, I thought she'd be more..."

"Princessy?" You asked, irritated.

He hummed.

"When they told me I was marrying an Emperor, I thought he'd be angry and old and lifeless. You pretty much delivered on all of those points."

Ren stopped abruptly in his tracks, head snatching to look at you. Your body froze. You hadn't been able to before, but suddenly, you saw the resemblance—between the unassuming, handsome man in simple black trousers, and the foreboding Emperor in the mask and armor.

You wished you could have swallowed back the words. Seeing Kylo Ren in his quarters had made you forget who he really was. _What_ he really was.

But before you could apologize, he'd taken a single, swift stride, and that was all it took the close the distance in between you. Before you could even see it coming, his hand was at your jaw, clasping you so tightly that you could feel his fingers scrape against your teeth through your skin. And in one swift, seamless motion, Kylo Ren pinned you to the wall. You gasped, feeling your back wrack against the surface behind you.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to watch your mouth?" He growled.

Swallowing thickly, you turned up your chin in defiance. "She tried."

"You must have been a disappointment," he growled. 

You had to swallow down the reply threatening to burst from your lips: _you would know a lot about family disappointments, wouldn't you?_

You didn't say it. You couldn't. But only because you knew he would have run you through with that stupid space sword, and the Resistance would have been kriffed. But you held the words in your eyes, instead. And somehow, you could feel that the message was clear.

His eyes were a silent warning to keep your mouth shut. Miraculously, you did, but you didn't hold back the venom in your gaze.

But he seemed satisfied with your silence. You'd never once seen him smile, and you doubted you ever would, but there was something almost akin to a smirk on his lips as his eyes trailed your face. His hand snaked up to cup your cheek, but his touch wasn't gentle. He forced your head to the side, like he wanted to examine you from another angle. 

Ren pressed harder against you. 

"Let me go," you snapped.

"Is that what you want?"

" _Yes_."

"No," he hummed, and leaned in closer, until you could no longer see his face, until his lips were at your ear. You shuddered as you felt his breath drift across your neck, tickling your skin. "It isn't. We both know what I saw in the interrogation room, Princess."

Something in your chest seemed to cripple. So there it was. He'd seen it. Honestly, you knew he had, but living without the confirmation was so much easier. Blushing fiercely, you turned your face away, but Ren only wrenched it back in place, to face him. It was his bare fingers on your skin—not his gloves. You tingled underneath his touch.

"You had no right-"

"I had no right?" He murmured, lifting his brows. "I don't control what goes on in your mind, Princess. Perhaps your anger is misplaced."

"You don't know shit about my anger,"

"I don't?" You wracked against his body, trying to break free from his grip. But he only shoved you back in place, and you grunted in pain as your spine smacked the wall again. "I know that it's strong. I can feel it. Stop fighting against it. Give in. Use it."

You wanted to tell him not to tempt you to act on your rage, but you also didn't want to be arrested for treason. So you settled with giving him the deepest scowl you could muster, eyes glaring daggers deep into his soul. "I hate you," you spat, struggling against his grip.

Kylo Ren didn't move an inch. He stared into you from inches away, brow drawn in intense focus, in determined passion. Suddenly, you felt like you were the only person on the whole Steadfast. Like nothing, and no one, mattered. Only you. Only him.

"Show me," he breathed.

Kylo Ren's lips crashed against yours before you could remember that you were arguing.

Your breath hitched, and you gave a small sound of muffled protest against his mouth. But you sighed, and the noise died out, releasing on a stifled moan instead. One of his hands still gripped your face, and your belly went warm as you felt the other trailing your hip. His mouth molded against yours until your lips parted under the force of the kiss. His tongue slipped through your mouth, dragging over your bottom lip before sliding inside, tasting you, twirling alongside yours. His fingers were rough as they roamed your body, greedy as they gripped and squeezed whatever patches of flesh that were unlucky enough to fall under their wake.

The longer you kissed him, the dizzier your mind grew. You were plastered in between his body and the wall, the only things keeping you from toppling over. Your timid hands grew braver with each roll of your tongue, and you found your fingers sliding upwards until they reached his hair. It was soft. Clean. Thick. You gripped his locks in between your fingers and fisted your hands, pulling taut against his scalp each time his grasping hands caused you any pain. He growled in response, swallowing your lips with more intensity. 

His hands trailed lower and your breath hitched. You went rigid as you felt him reach for your thighs. He stopped the movements of his lips, but kept them so they were pressing feather-light against yours. He parted the fabric of your dress only far enough to allow you to spread your legs. Then, gripping you from the thighs, he lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You sank against him again. And as he carried you to the bed, you tried to remind yourself that he was the enemy. That you had no right, and no business to feel anything towards him other than hatred.

But your mind couldn't keep up with your body as he carried you. Because you _did_ hate him. You knew he was cruel. You wanted him dead. And it didn't make a difference.

Because it was a hatred that burned bright, a hatred that coursed through your veins like hellfire. A fury that drove you to reach for him. That drove you to touch him, to reach inside of him and feel everything that twisted him into what he'd become.

Kylo Ren threw you ungently onto the bed and instantly lowered himself on top of your body. Then, he was on you again, ravaging your mouth. As his pelvis slid against yours, you felt an unmistakable hardness through the thin fabric of his lounging trousers. You gasped against his lips, and he released a tense, shuddering growl in response.

Your eyes had long fluttered shut, and you allowed yourself to kiss him fiercely and hotly. Your lips were sloppy and wet against his, and he kissed you back with equal passion. He rolled his hips against your center, and you groaned. He swallowed down the noise, and with another thrust against your sex, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Ren grunted, finally pulling his lips off of yours to stare down at your face as you began to lose yourself in ecstasy. This was insane. You shouldn't be doing this. But suddenly, he was dragging his hardness against your clit, and your better judgment was long gone. All that mattered was feeling him.

Your breath hitched, and your hands reached for him as he continued to thrust against your cunt, the only barrier between you being the thin, white panties you were wearing. Your hands found the side of his face, and you closed your eyes, wanting to heighten your senses. You let your mind wander, positive that it would immediately bring you thoughts of him.

But when you closed your eyes, the mental image you saw wasn't of Kylo Ren.

It was of you.

You saw yourself as you pressed your forehead to the Emperor's, as your fingers touched his temples. You saw your naked body, twisting in the sheets of the very bed you were lying in. You saw your wrists and ankles tied with leather bonds, a gloved hand around your throat. You saw your skin, covered with bruises. You saw your chin tilted to the ceiling, lips parted, the whole room doused in red...

You gasped, and your eyes flew open. Whatever the vision was, you didn't know where it had come from. But when Ren pulled away from you, you saw that his brow was drawn in confusion, his eyes wide with shock. His chest was heaving. All you could do was stare blankly back at him.

Parting your lips to speak, you realized you didn't know what to say. Your lip trembled. And you just sat there, propped on your elbows, shaking your head in confusion as you stared at him.

The Emperor lifted himself off of you, looking around the room, gathering his surroundings like he didn't even remember how the two of you had ended up writhing on his bed.

"What happened?" You breathed.

His eyes darted back towards you. He was still and silent for a moment. Your eyes bored into his.

"Go," he told you, voice empty and devoid of emotion. Somehow, you thought it might have sounded a little weak. You couldn't have been sure. Your mind was racing, and you couldn't have been sure of anything. "Tell no one." He turned his back to you, and set for the opposite end of the room, towards another set of doors, in the opposite direction from the entryway.

"I-"

" _Go_ ," He snapped over his shoulder.

Trembling, you slung your legs over the side of the beg and rose shakily to your feet, smoothing down the front of your dress and scurrying towards the door. 

You felt flushed. You knew the 'troopers would talk. But all you cared about was getting away. Because when you had been kissing him, you'd forgotten all about your mission. You'd forgotten all about your duty to save the galaxy. He had been the only thing that filled your mind, the only sense of urgency you held onto. 

You could never allow that to happen again.

Gasping for air, you paused in the threshold of the blaster door long enough only to look back.

But when you did, Kylo Ren was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END NOTES: Featured in next week's story will be Finor and Gil. You already know Finor, but may I introduce mister Timothee Chalamet as Gil. And before you come for me, I offer you this as a rebuttal:  
> https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6b/db/7b/6bdb7bac4005db414c0fa4bddd4bfdd8.jpg  
> Therefore, I will not be accepting any criticism at this time.


	9. Best Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for 5k reads on wattpad and 2k on AO3!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Violence and like, literal murder. Enjoy!

_Chume'da. All is well on Hapes. Have intel on arsenal, a number of all the ships in the fleet, and Troopers in the army, by your arrival on Naboo. We cannot proceed without it. You will hear from us when you land._

_Stay brave and true,_

_General Organa._

For the umpteenth time that week, you reread the letter, smoothing your fingers over the edges, which had since gone frayed and crumpled. You knew it was time to destroy it. But it was hard to get rid of the letter when it was the only thing tethering you to your home. To the Resistance. To your family, and your mother.

You let your clean-up droid vacuum it up. You didn't have access to fire, so while it wasn't a perfect alternative, it was the next best thing. The droid had been repaired since you'd broken it, and was almost starting to grow on you. But you still thought janitorial droids looked kriffing stupid, like big robotic bunnies.

It had been a week since what happened in Ren's room. And in that week, you hadn't even seen him. He didn't send for you again, even though you'd thought perhaps he would. Even though a part of you had hoped for it.

After seven days had passed without a word from the Emperor, you were starting to think you'd never see him again. That was the day you heard a knock outside of your door.

" _Princess_."

You were ashamed at yourself for jolting to your feet with excitement.

But when the blaster opened, you saw it wasn't Ren.

It was a Knight.

You went still as you stared at him, watched as he took two large strides to cross into your room. You had only seen the Knights of Ren briefly on two occasions, but recognized him as the shortest of all the others. Even so, he still had a couple of inches on you. He looked lean, but his gear was bulky, so it was hard to tell. His armor and helmet weren't unlike Ren's, but they were a little more rugged. Rustic, maybe. Apocalyptic. He was clad in charcoal gray, and you saw a mace hanging from his belt. You took a step back.

"Can I help you?" You gawked.

"I'm here to accompany you to the ambassadors' meeting."

"Meeting? I don't know anything about a meeting."

"Now you do," he said, tilting his head and shifting his weight. "Master Ren has requested your presence."

You gulped, and felt yourself jolt with excitement all over again. It was only an opportunity to see him, you reminded yourself. It was so important to gain his trust. For your mission. "And who are you?"

"Gil," he replied.

"Oh."

"Follow me," he instructed, gesturing towards the door.

"Long as you don't touch me with that thing," you said, nodding towards his weapon.

There was a small movement in his chest, and his head bobbed a little. Was that a _laugh_? Gods above, you hadn't heard or seen anyone aboard this godsforsaken ship in the whole month you'd been there. Suddenly, you didn't hate Gil.

You followed him into the hallway, and he began down the corridor. Instantly, you noticed the absence of Sith Troopers, but you didn't really care.

Your stomach was too busy turning at the thought of seeing Kylo Ren again.

"Why did he send you?" You asked, pumping your legs to catch up to him. You were pretty much matched for height, but he was lean and lithe, moving like a panther down the corridor. "Why did Ren send you to escort me?"

"For your safety."

"Are we not safe aboard the Steadfast?" You asked, quirking a brow.

"Nowhere is really safe for the Emperor."

You huffed, thinking about the attack. "You were on Bothawui," you told him. "I remember seeing you on the ship."

"The Night Buzzard," he responded proudly, puffing out his chest a little. "I'm the pilot."

"Wh-why were you there? What did you do?"

"On Bothawui? We had to eliminate the threat."

"Meaning you had to eliminate anyone who happened to be in the vicinity."

"We had to eliminate the threat," he repeated.

"That's..." you shook your head, gritting your teeth. There was nothing Gil could do about the fact that his master was a beast. There was nothing you could do for him; he was just on the wrong side of history. And you were comforted by the fact that he wouldn't be spared when the Resistance came knocking. "How do you like being a Knight?" You asked, desperate to change the subject so you wouldn't commit an insurrection.

He shrugged. "Good perks. Though it gives me hives to think about what happened to the _last_ Knights."

"What _did_ happen to the last Knights?"

Gil's head twitched towards you. "If I knew, it would be confidential."

"But you _don't_ know?"

"No one knows," he told you. "Master Ren went to Exegol unarmed, or so they say. No one knows why. By the time he returned, he had what was left of the fleet and Palpatine was dead. No one knows how he survived. The Knights weren't so lucky."

"They were on Exegol too?"

"Yeah," he replied with a little laugh. "Sounds like a pretty shit planet to die on, if you ask me; I don't envy them."

"So Palpatine killed them."

He shrugged. "We'll never know, I guess."

"Then _Ren_ killed them?" You whispered.

Gil turned to you again, but said nothing.

"How do you serve someone who you can't trust won't kill you?"

"You're asking some pretty dangerous questions for a princess."

"Sorry," you responded quickly; the fastest way to get Ren to trust you any less was to create a rift between him and his apprentices. "I just...you know. The old Knights must have done something really bad, then."

"Between you and me," Gil said, dropping his voice and tugging his arm, yanking you closer against him as you walked. Your heart jolted and you gasped in response, but let him speak. "the trouble with the Final Order is that there are loyalists to the old emperor. Ren hasn't weeded out the ones who don't want to forge a new Empire, but stay in the old one."

"People who served Palpatine?"

"People who don't want another ruler."

"Even on this ship?" Your mind wracked at the thought. But there were thousands of crew members aboard the Steadfast alone. It only made sense that it was possible for there to be traitors.

"Like I said," he murmured. "nowhere is safe for the Emperor. Not truly. Nor for the people close to him." You notice his gaze was still centered on your face. Your felt your heartbeat quicken.

Your eyes widened. "The Emperor and I aren't close."

You thought you heard him snicker from behind his helmet. "Well, that's not what I heard."

You stopped in your tracks, but when you saw that Gil wasn't stopping to wait for you, you had to scurry to keep up with him, frantic thoughts filling your mind, but only one of them coming to the forefront: how much do you know?

"Did...what is that supposed to mean? Did Ren say something?"

" _His Imperial Majesty_ ," Gil corrected, "tells me whatever he thinks I need to know."

You scoffed. "I find that hard to believe."

"Why's that, Princess?"

"I don't even get how you'd work well together. You and him seem so different."

"And why's that?"

"Because," you said, scoffing again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I can almost detect a hint of a personality in your voice. A shred of humor beneath the helmet."

"Don't be deceived," he muttered, looking down the corridor, upon the door to the room he was meant to take you to. "My master entrusts me with anything. Everything, really. Even the _smallessssttt_ details." His voice went sultry and smug, and you swallowed heavily.

Your blood was boiling in your veins, but somehow, you couldn't hate Gil. At least he had a sense of humor.

He turned to you once you'd reached the door, but you noticed instantly that he wasn't stepping away from you. You were separated by inches at the most. And you stared up into his helmet, trying to get a read on him.

"You know, I'm really tired of having conversations with people I can't see," you swiped.

That time, you were _sure_ you heard him chuckle. "Maybe if we're lucky, Princess, another time."

Your brow twitched, but you noticed your chest felt warm. "I don't think Ren would like that."

Gil dipped in closer, until his helmet was inches from your ear. You held your breath. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior."

His voice was raspy but somehow mind-bogglingly sweet. You watched as he started down the hall, eyes widening as he even turned to glance back at you. "Oh, and Princess," he called. "Master wishes to see you after the meeting."

Your heart plummeted to your stomach as you watched Gil turn the corner and duck out of sight. And you wondered if Ren had really told him about the kiss. Somehow, you couldn't imagine the Emperor engaging in that kind of discussion. Besides, a mere kiss struck you as something the Emperor would find meaningless. Something he might have even forgotten.

Even though _you_ could still feel its echo buzzing on your lips, a week later.

You cleared your throat, still nervous to see the Emperor. Especially when you hadn't seen him since you'd furiously made out with him in his private quarters.

And especially when you didn't have a clue how he felt about any of it, or if he even cared.

And now, the nerves were even worse.

Because you had to be alone with him once again.

You pressed the opener to the blast door, and stepped inside.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

"Princess?"

You jolted in your seat, springing to sit upright, head snapping towards the other officials and ambassadors. You hadn't even noticed your gaze had drifted out the window. Internally, you cursed your own attention-span, but tried to remind yourself that you'd been in this meeting for nearly four hours. And no one had said anything important, to your knowledge. You'd already gone to the refresher twice, so that excuse was no longer viable. You'd been listening to these men drone on for half a day.

But you still should have been paying attention. For all intents and purposes, you were an ambassador. Your title was just higher than everyone else's. Because not only did you represent your planet, but you were going to marry the Emperor.

You looked towards Kylo Ren for the thousandth time, wondering if he was going to be angry at your lack of focus. But he didn't say anything, so you had no idea what he thought about it. Just like you had no idea about how he felt about what you'd done in his bedroom.

Not only that, but you had no idea what had really _happened_. Whatever you'd seen felt like a vision. You knew it hadn't been conjured in your own mind. So it must have been conjured from his. But how in the gods' names would you have been able to see into his head? How could you possibly explain it?

You'd decided it must have been a weird mental image from your subconscious, triggered by kissing the Emperor.

As if you needed another fucking reason to hate yourself.

Your eyes stayed on Kylo Ren, seated imposingly in his throne at the head of the circle. The meeting was held in one of the observation halls. It seemed like every other room aboard the Steadfast had a kriffing throne for the Emperor.

He was seated with his legs slightly spread, upright and stoic. He had completely healed from his injury, and was frequently leaving his quarters in order to assume his duties, even though he hadn't given himself much time to rest following the explosion in Bothawui. The mask was back, and he was once again the impenetrable black wall he'd been before.

"Apologies," you said, when you realized you weren't going to figure out if he was angry with your distraction or not.

"Perhaps there's somewhere else the Princess would rather be," a voice said.

Your head turned, and fell upon Kodo Dara. Ambassador from Coruscant. The man who'd called you out in the first place. He looked like he'd been around since the Dark Times, maybe even before, and it was clear that time hadn't done any favors for his morals, nor for his looks. Weathered and just beyond middle-aged, it was his smile that really bothered you. A sickening smirk that was somehow both condescending and creepy.

"Apologies, Ambassador Dara," you repeated, unsmiling as you stared at him. "But I have to admit, talking in circles for hours upon end about Coruscant's trade routes are getting us nowhere. We've all voiced our opinions on the matter. Wandering aimlessly around the same talking points isn't doing any of us much good. Good leadership is demonstrated in decisiveness," you finished, leaning back in your chair.

"You insolent girl," he growled suddenly.

You raised your brow. Okay, sure, your words were a little harsh, and you could have stood to be kinder, but you didn't think your message would be received quite so negatively. But with each second Dara didn't speak, he was growing more purple in the face, knuckles going white as they gripped his armrests.

"Forgive me, Ambassador. I'm not insulting your leadership, only suggesting that-"

"I won't take this disrespect from a _child_ who has no business being in this room."

"Excuse me?" You breathed. "I have _every_ right to be in this room. I'm capable of complete trade-route negotiations for my people in under four hours, which is more than you can say."

Dara leapt to his feet, sputtering, turning to the Emperor. "Your Imperial Majesty," he choked. "I _insist_ you have the girl removed."

"Refer to me as a girl again, Dara," you warned.

The Emperor held up his hand. Every head in the room snapped towards his direction.

"The Princess stays," Ren said darkly. Then, slowly, he turned his head towards you. "Though I would advise her to watch her tone."

 _Not the first time he's told me that_ , you thought. Fair play.

You had to chew on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from arguing further. You thought that would be the end of it, and took a steadying breath to calm your angry nerves.

And then you realized that Dara wasn't sitting down.

Still sputtering, he'd gone from purple to red. You could almost see steam pouring from his ears.

"Your Majesty," he growled. "I must insist you have her removed. I do not believe that women have a place on this council, and I will not be insulted by- by some _cunt_ from the Inner Rim!"

It was as if the air drained from the room. No one moved. No one even breathed. Not even you. You were in too much shock to be angry. You stared, jaw slackened, at Dara, positive you misheard him. And then you saw the moment he realized his mistake. His eyes went from furiously squinted to wide with fear. He looked from you, to the Emperor, and back to you. You held his gaze, and slowly, the surprise began to fade from your veins, and the anger began to seep in.

But just before you were able to launch yourself from your seat, something happened. 

Dara's pupils seemed to drain from his eyes. He made a strange choking noise, and his tongue slipped out from between his lips. He began to claw at his throat. And then you watched, in shock, as his feet lifted until he was inches off the ground.

It was as if an invisible force was raising him towards the ceiling.

And then you realized it wasn't a force.

It was _the_ Force.

Terrified, you looked towards Kylo Ren. But his gaze was locked on the Ambassador, body hitched forward in focus.

"Never again will you speak out against the Princess. When she is your Empress, she may not be so forgiving. And then you'll have two of us to answer to."

With a jolt, Dara collapsed on the floor. He gulped down air, and a part of you was inclined to rush to his side, to help him. And then you remembered what a misogynistic monster he was. So you let him help himself, watching speechlessly as he scratched at his throat as his airways began to open back up.

"You will speak to me privately when this meeting concludes, Ambassador," the Emperor said coolly. "For your sake, I suggest you reconsider your views on the Princess's place on this council."

Still gasping, Dara crawled his way back to his seat. With trembling hands, he raised himself back into his chair.

Kylo Ren didn't look at you for the rest of the meeting.

You kept your head down and your mouth shut.

If Kylo Ren hadn't wanted to see you after the meeting before, he certainly would now.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Another hour passed. You kept your eyes glued to your lap. You were steadfast in your quest not to look at Ren. He may have come to your defense, but you shouldn't have spoken out.

Now, with the dread of staying late to speak with him after the meeting, the time seemed to fly by. Too soon, the Emperor was straightening himself in his throne, eyeing the officials around him with little attentiveness.

"Outspoken as she may be, the Princess was correct. We've been at this for far too long. Jido, come back to me when you have a clear plan for your planet's defense. Dara, you will not stray far. I'll find you shortly."

You already had your orders from Gil to stay put. You were silent as you watched the ambassadors file out of the meeting room, Dara scurrying to get away as fast as he could. Lifting yourself from your chair only so you could stretch your legs, hoping some movement would quell your nerves, you walked to the window. The room was massive, as was the glass that lined the wall. You stared out at stars, wishing they could make you feel better. You heard the door shut. And you knew that you and the Emperor were alone.

"Look at me."

His voice came from behind you. It was sharp and cold and sent jolts of panic through your veins. Biting the insides of your cheeks, you turned. Kylo Ren had brought himself to stand only a few feet away from you. And he was watching you intently.

"Thank you" you choked before you could stop yourself. "For what you said to Dara. You didn't have to come to my defense."

"I didn't do it for you," he answered quickly.

Something inside of your chest suddenly seemed to deflate. You squared your jaw.

"I cannot allow my inferiors to question the Order," he clarified.

"What will you do to him?"

"What would you have me do to him?"

You swallowed thickly, not having expected him to ask you want you wanted done with Dara. He was a misogynistic prick. But as far as you could tell, he was loyal to Ren. "I don't know what you usually do to people who undermine you. Kill them?"

He shook his head. "I've killed men for less, but these days, my allies are few and far between. I don't need to end his life. I don't _want_ his life. But he will never question me again." Ren spoke without emotion, as if decided how much pain to inflict upon Dara was akin to selecting what side dishes to bring for a picnic. You'd never seen an emptier man.

Eying him, you took slow steps forward, until there was little space between you. Until you were close enough to reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough.

"Am I ever going to see you without that mask again?" You breathed.

He said nothing. He only stood in silence, hands clasped behind his back, for a few solid, empty moments. Then, he briskly brushed past you, cape nearly whisping your legs as he pounded towards the window.

You turned to look at him, but he was staring out into space. Still in his at-ease position.

"Do you ever just...relax?"

"No."

You scoffed, but walked over to him, planting yourself at his side, staring out the observation window just as he did.

"Are we really not going to talk?"

"No."

Fighting the urge to groan in frustration, you angled your body towards his. To your surprise, he turned his head. And held your gaze.

"What will you do if Dara disrespects me again?"

"I'll kill him," he answered simply.

"But it's not personal?"

He was silent for a moment, before he answered in a voice that was surely too cold to be human: "No."

You felt your brow pinch. You looked away from him.

"You were unarmed on Bothawui," he said suddenly.

You closed your eyes. "We've been over this."

"You could have been hurt."

Furrowing your brow, you turned to look at the Emperor. You thought he was going to chide you. Or decide you needed to be punished for your carelessness. Was this...concern?

"It will not happen again," he said, and swiftly turned to head for the exit.

Nearly stumbling, you managed to take a step forward in his direction. "What do you mean?" You blurted.

"You will train with me."

"I'll _train_ with you?" You echoed dumbly, like he hadn't just said those exact words himself. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you belong to me, and as such, you're my responsibility to keep safe. I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself. How to kill, if necessary."

Not even bothering to correct him, all you could do was stare at him blindly. "Starting when?"

"Whenever I say."

With that, Kylo Ren was gone, and you were alone.

After the meeting, you headed towards the mess hall. Typically, your meals were brought to your room. Still, you still elected to sit alone. You didn't actually want to talk to anyone. But constantly being by yourself in that tiny, cramped apartment was starting to make you feel like you were losing it. This way, at least you could people watch, and get out and about.

Once you'd eaten your perfectly mediocre meal, you decided to head back to your quarters and call it an early night. Except once you turned the corner to the corridor that led to your room, you stopped in your tracks.

There wasn't a 'trooper in sight, but you knew that the man responsible for the dead body lying at your feet wouldn't be arrested.

It was Dara—collapsed in a sad heap on the floor, head lolled to the side, leaning against the wall. His eyes stared at the ceiling, but they were lifeless and empty.

And that's when you saw the cauterized wound, slicing through his middle.

It was still steaming from the heat of a lightsaber blade. 


	10. Something To Believe In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER NOTES: Please welcome Jason Mamoa to the ring as Rharo!

Kylo was pacing. That's all he was able to do, nowadays, whenever he was unlucky enough to be left alone with his thoughts.

Ever since that bitch from Hapes had been forced upon him.

He was in the training pit. He'd arrived early. But he'd already been there for _twenty minutes_. Gil was late. _She_ was late. And now he was waiting, pacing, like an _idiot_. The Emperor waited for no one. And yet there he was—feeling like the stupid boy, the foolish student he'd been years ago, bending to the wills of others, accommodating _them_ even though _they_ should be bending to _his_ will. His fists clenched at his sides.

The Force was strong with her. That much was obvious. What was so uncommon was how she seemed to have no idea. She'd seen right into his mind, stared into his soul with no more difficulty than looking through a window. And still, she didn't get it.

Stupid girl.

He told himself he hated her. He picked up a vibrosword from the bench, twirling it in his grip before giving the air a few practice slices. He told himself he didn't want to do this, but that it was a necessity. That he was doing her a favor, even though he was thoroughly inconvenienced. He told himself he hadn't thought about her since that day in his quarters.

Then why could he still see her?

And worse than that—why could he still _feel_ her?

Every time he shut his eyes she was there, her fingers laced in his hair like the claws of a demon, dragging him down to all the Corellian hells. The memory of her lips was still a vibrant scorch on his skin. He'd been burning ever since.

He hadn't felt this weak in years. His stomach had been turning at his own desire ever since he'd felt her lips on his.

Kylo had imaged taking her as his during the meeting. Imagined marching up to her and throwing her to the ground and fucking her senseless while the ambassadors watched. And it was those kinds of thoughts that made him realize he was spiraling out of control. He'd always been at war with himself, desperately searching for the means to master his emotions. After Exegol, his feelings seemed to shut off completely.

Now, they were back in full force. Except they were more unpredictable than he ever remembered them being. Which was saying something.

And it was her fault. All of it—her fucking fault. 

She was just a Princess. Just a little brat. Nothing to him. Nothing. 

And yet, she had declared herself the commander of his mind. Without even having earned it. Without even wanting it. That made Kylo all the angrier. 

The smart thing to do was to put more distance between them. To send her back, and ask for a different princess. _Any_ other princess. 

Instead, he'd taken it upon himself to demand to be her trainer. To spend _more_ time with her. Like an idiot.

He told himself that despite his desires, it was necessary to train her. That it was his duty to wield and control her power.

But there was something deeper, too. 

For too long, Kylo had felt lost without someone to guide him.

But maybe it wasn't a master he needed.

Maybe it was a student.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

When it was time for you to be taken to your first training session with Ren, you'd expected to find Gil waiting for you in the corridor.

You hadn't expected a second Knight to be with him.

Rharo was even taller than Kylo Ren, and nearly twice as wide. You could tell in less than an instant that if he wanted to, he could crush your skull between his palms with little more effort than snapping a toothpick. 

You glared up at him but said or did nothing beyond that. You knew that Gil could easily demolish you too, but there was something particularly menacing about Rharo.

Until he leaned back and released a full-bodied chuckle, tilting his head as he glanced down at you. 

"Well, you were right about one thing, Gil. She's no ray of sunshine."

"How kind of you to say," you said, throwing a seething glare in Gil's direction. 

"After you, Princess," Gil responded in a voice dripping with sweetness and smoothness, gesturing down the hallway and giving you a little bow.

You brushed past them, but heard both Knights chuckle from behind you. You whipped your head around to glare at them both, and you were somehow both relieved and disappointed to hear them go silent.

Rharo cleared his throat. "It's a big day for you, Princess. Training with the master. But I've heard you're already a pretty good shot."

"I'm alright," you clipped, but lifted your chin.

Rharo released a short stream of air through his nose. You could barely hear it from behind his helmet. "Master is eager to see if you're as good with a vibrosword."

Your throat tightened. Evander had taught you the basics a long time ago. You certainly weren't a pro, but you'd gotten quite good. Not that you had practiced in recent memory. Suddenly, you were homesick for Hapes. You were homesick for Evander, too.

"So," you said, clearing your throat, attempting to distract yourself. "What's it like training with Ren?"

"Master is a good teacher," Rharo responded smugly. "A better man."

You scoffed in response. 

"Don't tell me you don't like Master Ren," Gil replied innocently. But his voice was just shy of taunting.

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore him. "What's it like? What has he taught you?"

"Everything," Rharo replied dryly. "There's not a thing worth a shred of value in my life that wasn't taught to me by Master Ren."

"What a hero," you murmured under your breath.

Much of the walk was spent in silence. And you were grateful not to have to entertain Ren's goons. You would have been happy to take the ten-minute hike without speaking. But after you came out of the turbolift, and after you were nearing the facilities, you realized that it wasn't _completely_ quiet. Low, inaudible murmurings were beginning to sound from behind you. You were planning on ignoring it, until you heard a low, muffled laugh from Gil. Gritting your teeth, you turned around, glaring at the Knights. 

"Is something funny?" You seethed.

"Relax, Princess," Gil purred.

"I don't like the way you say 'Princess,'" you snapped in response.

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"My name?" You nearly shouted. "Of course it's not my kriffing name."

"Well, it's what Master Ren calls you, so..." Gil's voice was smug and smoother than honey. You turned around to catch him sharing a glance with Rharo, and your fists curled at your sides.

"If you're having a joke, how about you share it with the rest of us?"

"Joke about you?" Gil asked, placing a hand to his heart. "I would _never_ , Princess."

"Stop calling me that."

"What would you prefer?" Rharo asked. "Or maybe there's another way we could help you feel more welcomed."

"That's right," Gil interjected, stroking the chin part of his mask, _clearly_ mocking you. "Maybe we could...oh, I don't know. See if Master Ren would invite her to his quarters again? She seemed to enjoy their last meeting, from what I heard."

You stopped in your tracks, but your face was flushing hot. You stood planted to the spot, practically trembling, hands clenched into fists at your sides. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, but-"

"Don't you?" Gil snickered.

You huffed through your nose. "You don't know what you're saying," you snapped, far too quickly. "Just drop it."

"As you command. Princess."

Rharo shuffled forward. He walked like a man headed to a nice evening at the cantina. You couldn't imagine how Ren, morbid and terrifying, had picked these scoundrels for his Knights. Rharo opened a blast door, and as you stepped inside, you noticed how empty the corridors were.

"These are Master's private facilities," Rharo explained, without you even having to ask. "You're a lucky girl."

You bit your tongue as he led you down the hallway, glancing into the few rooms that lined the corridor as you passed. The ceiling were lower. You knew you must be underneath the training facilities, nearing the pit. You could see a small changing room to your left, lined with tall metal lockers. As you continued walking, you saw a black blast door directly ahead of you.

Rharo pressed the activator, and stepped inside. You followed.

As suspected, you found yourself in the bottom of Ren's private training pit. You looked up, and saw the expanse of a ceiling towering above your head, far out of reach. The walls stretched above you at an impossible height. Before, when you'd looked down at the pit, it didn't look so imposing. Now, standing in the bottom of it, it felt like the walls were twenty feet high.

Then, your eyes fell on Kylo Ren. And suddenly, everything felt small. Small, and impossible to escape.

He stood at the opposite end of the pit. Slowly, he turned when he saw you.

He was dressed in his usual armor, complete with his helmet. The only difference was that he wasn't wearing his cape. Your heart sank a little. You shouldn't have expected to see his face. He had already so much as told you that you wouldn't see it again. 

Ren looked incredibly dangerous, especially given the sword he gripped in his hand. He was only still for a moment. When the moment passed, he was rounding on you, and your heart leapt to your throat.

"Delivered as promised, Master Ren," Rharo said, giving you a gentle but irritating nudge forward. "This one's a little spitfire."

"Don't remind me," Ren responded curtly, picking up a vibrosword from a nearby bench and throwing it in your direction. You flinched, but caught it, not hesitating to glare at him for his carelessness. "Leave us," Ren told his Knights.

You didn't watch Gil and Rharo come back from the way they came, but heard the shuffling of boots and the closing of the door. 

And you knew you were alone with Kylo Ren.

"Why is it that whenever I'm unlucky enough to be around one of your little cultists, I feel like the butt of some joke that's just been made behind my back?"

"Are you here to train, or not?"

"I don't know, am I? The only reason I'm here is because you're forcing me to be."

"Ah. Yes. So shut up about the Knights, and raise your sword."

You did, realizing instantly that you could only support it with both hands. You found a stance, the most basic of stances taught to you by Evander. Simple, but effective. You tried not to think of your friend as you stared at the monster encroaching on you.

He walked towards you and circled your body. You tried not to flush underneath his gaze, but were sure you were failing.

"Your stance isn't terrible," he hummed. "You've done this before."

"Only a little," you responded shortly. "I don't really know what I'm doing." 

"Hm." Ren brushed away from you, landing a few feet in front of you, raising his sword.

"That's it?" You gawked. "I just told you I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not ready to fight you."

"Then prove it," he responded.

You tensed with anger. Was this psychopath really going to force you to spar with him without even ensuring you knew the basics of swordwork? He could cut you in half _easily_. You burned with anger, feeling your jaw set so tightly it trembled. In so many ways, he was impossibly upright. Rigid and unyielding and perfectly controlled in his stubbornness. But something about him seemed _so_ uptight and _so_ rigid, that he always appeared to be on the verge of snapping.

Perhaps like he had before he killed the ambassador.

"I found the little gift you left me. We haven't spoken about what you did you Dara."

"And we won't." Ren gave the vibrosword in his hand a simple but effortless twirl, gripping the hilt between his fingers. He began to circle you in the pit. You countered him, glaring daggers into his unreachable eyes, hidden behind the mask.

"You killed him. You could have just banished him from the council."

"You expect me to believe you're not glad he's dead?"

Involuntarily, your grip tightened around your sword. "I believe the galaxy might be a better place without him, but it's not your place to end his life."

"Don't you remember what he called you?" Ren asked. Then, without warning, he lunged forward. Within a split-second, all you saw was his blade coming down on you. You barely had time to raise your sword in defense, swinging his blade away. Ren leaned to the side with the momentum of his weapon, but otherwise, his stance was perfectly taught. He straightened himself, raising his chin, and continued his circle.

You heaved with air. The attack had been effortless for him. For you, defending yourself had winded you.

"I never forget the cruel, sick things men have said to me. You should remember that." You shifted your footing, taking a wide, low stance to slash at his middle. Ren lurched back, but the movement was, again, flawlessly controlled. He could do this in his sleep. 

He stepped out of his stance to continue his predatory circles around the pit. You countered him, blade raised in preemptive defense. Your arms were already shaking from the weight of the weapon. You were used to sleek blasters, not giant metal swords. 

"I shouldn't have to tell you he has no place aboard my ship, nor in my galaxy. I thought you'd be grateful."

"Grateful?" You scoffed. "You're the one who said it wasn't personal. You killed him to sate your ego. Why would that make me grateful?"

"Then you enjoyed being called a cunt?"

That word off of Kylo Ren's tongue ignited something inside of you, and you didn't wait to figure out what it was. Immediately, you lunged again, growling through gritted teeth as your blade came down upon his head. He blocked it easily, and the next thing you felt was the bottom of his boot punching your stomach. The blow knocked you off your feet, and you landed on your back, sliding a good few feet across the arena floor.

Desperately, you gasped for air, clutching your stomach. The force of his kick had knocked the air out of your lungs, and you found you were choking on your own sad attempts to breathe.

"Find your breath," he told you, emotionless. 

You tried to tell him to fuck off, but were starting to feel like you were going to throw up. What came out was choked gibberish. You heaved, but slowly, the air began to seep into your lungs once again. Once you took a few steady inhales, you looked towards Ren. He was crossing the floor to stand above you.

"That was a nice attempt," he told you.

You glared at him. "Stop trying to seduce me with my own anger. That's not me. I may represent a planet devoted to the Order, but it doesn't make me someone to calls to the Dark Side."

Something around Ren seemed to darken as he towered above you. "It does if I tell you to."

" _No_. I'm not a Sith."

" _Of course you're not,_ " he sneered. "Forget about the Sith. Forget about the Jedi. They're gone. All of them."

"Then what do you believe in?"

Kylo knelt next to you, and you felt his large hand encompass your jaw. " _Myself_ ," he growled. 

You were shocked by the gentleness of his touch, but couldn't help but notice his grip was still overflowing with tension. He could crush your jaw, if he wanted. 

Realizing you were no longer breathing, you gulped, but shoved his arm off of you. "And what am I supposed to believe in?"

"Power," he responded.

Kylo stood, extending his arm down towards you. You stared at his hand, not sure if it was a hand that you trust. Against your better judgment, you took it, and let him pull you to your feet. 

"Or your potential," he added.

"What potential?"

He didn't answer you. "Try again," was his only response. Grimacing with frustration, you reached for your weapon. You were furious, but on the other hand, determined.

You grit your teeth. And then you raised your weapon.

You sprinted forward, striking your blade upon him. He blocked it, bringing his sword back up to thrust down upon you. You were able to block the strike, but found yourself being driven backwards by the sheer weight of Ren's attacks. You took a leap back with each rapid thrust, defending each one. Finally, you were able to land one on him. Your blade came downwards once again, and once again, he blocked the blow. Then, his sword came down upon you so heavily it sent you stumbling backwards. With a few feet in between you and the beast, you raised your weapon in defense. Kylo spun towards you, his blade swinging in a large circle above his head. You saw a flash of metal as you found your footing and blocked the strike with both hands, one blade crossed over another, forming a menacing "X" directly in front of your face—between you and Kylo Ren.

And though you were separated by your blades, his face was only inches away.

"Your instincts are impeccable," he huffed, pressing his blade harder against yours. His chest was heaving. "The Force is strong with you. Did you know that?"

You felt your brow knit and your arms go slack. But then you felt Ren's blade begin to overpower you, and you tensed your muscles once again, keeping your weapons crossed. "No," you answered.

Pushing your sword against Ren's with all the strength you could muster, you swung his blade off of yours and dropped your arms. When he saw your stance, he lowered his weapon.

At first, you thought he was mistaken. That, or playing an incredibly weird joke on you. And then you remembered that Kylo Ren couldn't tell a joke if he tried. 

And then you remembered how somehow, inexplicably, miraculously, you were able to stave off his mind invasions. That shouldn't have been possible. Especially not against a master. 

But then you thought of the infamous legends of Vader in his early days. How he wiped out an entire Jedi temple filled with children. If you had the potential to be a Jedi, did that put you in danger? Would it make Ren see you as an enemy?

Or did it mean he would force you to become a monster?

Swallowing, and with a sudden surge of panic in your throat, you took a step back. "That can't be right," you told him. "I'm just a good fighter."

"It's not just your fighting," he said urgently, and you noticed his body flinch in your direction, as if he was gravitating towards you. But it was only a twitch, and he didn't take a step forward. 

"You've never felt strange. Never seen things before they've actually happened. Never been able to influence another, to bend them to your will." It was a question, but phrased like a statement. Like he only expected one answer.

"No," you responded, knowing it wasn't what he thought you'd say. And for once, you were telling the truth.

Perhaps he saw the genuine confusion and concern etched onto your face. Perhaps he pitied you. Perhaps he sensed your fear. But for whatever reason, something in the Emperor seemed to soften, even if just barely.

"What?" You breathed nervously when he didn't speak.

He straightened his back. "You're a very interesting girl."

"I'm a woman," you reminded him, irritated.

"You hardly act like one," he snapped.

You choked out an irritated exhale, but you realized your arms felt like lead as they hung at your sides. "Look. I swear I've never been able to...use the Force, or whatever."

"That almost makes perfect sense."

"And why's that?" You asked, cocking your hip to the side.

"Because since you've boarded my ship, you've proven to be anything but predictable."

Before you could stop and think about what he said, Kylo Ren was brushing past you, headed for the door to the arena. "Come," he ordered over his shoulder.

With no time to argue, you scampered on his heels. He led you back down the corridor you'd come from, but to your surprise, he didn't take you to the exit. Instead, he took a right, and suddenly, you found yourself in another small, dark room.

It was about the size of the interrogation room. And for the most part, it was empty. A few tables lined the walls, and a few weapons hung on racks pushed to the far left side. But Ren wasn't giving the weapons any mind. Instead, he was standing at one of the tables. Slowly, you approached him, and when you did, he lifted a lid of sorts off of the top of the table. Only then did you realize it was a display case.

And only when it was opened did you realize you were staring at a row of kyber crystals.

Your jaw went slack as you stared down at the glimmering stones. They seemed to shine and vibrate all the same, almost as if they were sentient. Almost as if they were alive. 

But that wasn't the strangest part.

The strangest part was that they weren't a row of red crystals.

They were a rainbow of different shades. 

Shades that a Jedi might use.

Timidly, you looked at him. "How do you have these?"

"That's not your concern," he answered. "Pick one."

Feeling your brow knit, you opened your mouth to speak, noticing your mouth felt dry. "I get one of these?" You gawked.

"No," he answered flatly. "Being strong with the Force doesn't make you a Jedi. And it certainly doesn't make a Sith. I am asking you which one you would pick _if_ you proved yourself worthy."

Swallowing heavily, you turned your gaze back to the crystals. Most of them were red of course, and they varied in sizes. But your fingers trailed farther down the line of stones. Ren had a scattering of blue, crystals as well. Purple. Green. Even white. And you found yourself wondering what the Emperor of the Final Order was doing with kyber crystals of any colors that weren't red or black.

Your finger hovered just over the only purple stone that sat upon the velvet. As if asking for permission, you looked up to Ren, feeling like you were failing a test you easily should have passed.

"You don't have to pick red," he said, sensing your uncertainty.

"I don't?" You breathed, utterly shocked. "That's not...treason? If I were to have one of these, if I did prove myself worthy, I'd be a Sith, right?"

Kylo's gaze was glued to you, stony and unreachable behind his helmet. And then it occurred to you that during the Order's entire reign, and during your entire stay on the Steadfast, you'd never once heard Kylo refer to himself as a Sith. He was the Emperor. He'd won the galaxy. But it wasn't as if he ran around the Steadfast making everyone call him "Darth Ren."

Suddenly, the weight of his stare was crippling. 

"Take off your mask," you breathed. 

Kylo lifted his chin, but said nothing. And then you remembered—never in a million years would Kylo Ren take orders from _you_. 

"Please," you murmured, voice dropping involuntarily to a whisper.

He stood still for a few moments, before lifting his hands to the side of his helmet. You heard a small hiss of air, and then he lifted it off his head, setting it on the table next to the crystals. 

You still hadn't gotten used to seeing him without his mask. And he was even more beautiful than you remembered. His severe features were strong, set with severity as his eyes found yours in an instant. If he was going to become more attractive every time he took off his helmet, then things were going to grow even more difficult for you. Licking your lips, you had to find your breath, because it had abandoned your body the moment his gaze swallowed yours.

"Why won't you ever take that thing off around me?" You asked, realizing that the words were barely audible.

"I just did."

"You didn't want to," you pointed out. "You told me that you hoped I'd never see you without it again."

Ren cast his gaze to the side, to the floor, _anywhere_ but towards your eyes. You took a step forward, hoping he could sense the strength of your gaze. And it seemed he did—his entire body tense, his jaw clenched so tightly that you could see the muscles rippling under his skin.

" _Don't_ ," he snapped. But his voice was quiet too. Almost like he was choking.

"Do you want to leave?" You whispered, throwing his own words back at him. The words he'd used against you in his bedroom. When you tried to convince yourself you wanted to be away from him.

If possible, his jaw clenched even tighter. His nostrils twitched in frustration. 

Before, you'd been furious with yourself for wanting him. If you were being honest, you still were. But with each lonely day aboard the Steadfast, you felt your inhibitions slipping. And you told yourself that was all it was—loneliness. Boredom. Anything you could tell yourself to make yourself believe you had any feelings towards him other than disdain, you tried. 

But how long could you fail before you realized none of it mattered?

"Kylo," you breathed.

Only then did his head snap towards yours, his eyes falling back into your gaze. They looked black in the darkness of the weapons room. You'd never used his name before, not even when referring to him. It was always Ren, or bastard, or monster, or Emperor if you were trying to stay out of trouble.

But as you gazed at him, you felt something between you shatter. 

And then Kylo shattered.

He lunged for you, hands flying to cup your face. You felt rough fingers graze your skin as his lips crashed into yours. Gasping as Kylo began to walk you backwards, you felt your spine smash against the wall behind you. Then, you gasped again, stealing his air, parting your lips to inhale. In an instant, his entire body was pressed against you, crushing you against the wall like he had the day in his bedroom. You sank into the comfort, the familiarity, realizing only then how much you'd ached to feel his lips against your skin, your fingers laced in his hair.

You tugged against his dark locks, and it drew a growl from his lips. And it only made you kiss him harder—the tactful motions of your lips were long gone. You kissed him like you were starving to death. Because that's what it felt like to be parted from him.

And you didn't even know why.

But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Only him.

Only this.

His lips trailed your neck, and when they reached your collarbone, he roughly yanked down the top of your tunic. It slipped down one of your shoulders, exposing your cleavage, and you heard thread ripping within Kylo's fingers. His teeth sank into your skin, nipping down the expanse of your chest, tongue dragging over the blooming redness. You gasped as he bit you particularly hard, and you yanked his hair in response. He growled against your skin and next, raised his head to sink his teeth into your neck. 

Punishment.

You groaned, but your hips were bucking against his. That was when his hand found your throat, and he slammed you harder against the wall, pulling away from you to stare directly into your eyes—from an inch away.

"A Hapan slut," he growled. "That's what I end up with."

His words hit you, settled deep within your gut, twisting your insides. But you noticed he hadn't drawn his hips away. More than that—you realized he was hard. You felt the wideness of your eager, thirsty eyes, drinking in his beauty. And you realized he could punish you all he wanted.

He still wouldn't be able to stop.

Your lips came together like magnets, tongues instantly swirling desperately. You ached to taste him.

And you ached for more than that, too.

"Kylo," you whimpered against his mouth. He gripped your waist, his hands trailing hungrily up your body before they landed upon your breasts. The friction was rapturous, but not nearly enough.

You moaned languidly. And then, " _Kylo, please_."

He went still for a moment, frozen against your lips. Your eyes met. The intensity in his gaze was crippling you. You thought he might be about to throw you out. But to your shock, his hands darted for the tie at the back of your tunic. And his lips crashed into yours again. You slid your tongue through his mouth and felt his slide against yours. Your mind was reeling, blood battering within your veins. You keened with the realization that it was really happening, you were finally going to have him. Until-

"Master, I-"

Kylo pulled away from you just in time for Gil to step into the doorway. The instant you saw the Knight, you ripped your gaze away, feeling yourself flood with heat and redness. Kylo went rigid, but a peek at him from your peripheral showed you that he was staring Gil down, not bothering to step away from you. Your bodies were still pressed together, your tunic still shrugged indecently down one shoulder.

Inhaling shakily, you adjusted your top.

"You...told me to send for her in half an hour."

Kylo exhaled slowly, and you felt the weight of his hard crotch press against you a little harder. But then he stepped away. "Take her," he responded coolly. Evenly. But a little too evenly. As if he was fighting for control. 

You stared at the floor as you took a few shaky steps towards Gil. You didn't dare look at him, but you supposed there was solace in the fact that you wouldn't have been able to see his face. You took one last look at Kylo before you left. But his gaze was off to the side, brow knit in frustration. Maybe confusion. You couldn't tell. Never could.

And as you followed Gil down the corridor, you could only think of one impending, dreadful fact:

The walk back to your room was going to be hell.


	11. This Is Your Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes: What follows is not an accurate portrayal of healthy BDSM, not is intended to be. This is fiction, and should not be practiced in real life. If you are going to be bothered or triggered by extremely rough explicit sexual content, lack of safewords, and lack of and proper practices, please don’t read this chapter or probably the rest of this fic. The sexual content that follows is consensual.
> 
> Secondarily, there is also some forced humiliation and physical roughness that is absolutely not okay in any way shape or form. Please read with discretion.
> 
> In another epic fashion moment, reader is sporting purple for moral ambiguity.
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ca/2b/43/ca2b4322d85a69a5e00cbc28bca45981.jpg

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

The walk back to your quarters was suspiciously silent. Apparently, Gil no longer had anything to say about whatever was going on between you and the Emperor. Perhaps he was actually considering your feelings for once. Or perhaps he'd just run out of jokes.

It wasn't until you were only a couple minutes away from your room when you finally turned to the Knight.

"Gil," you murmured.

"What," he replied lowly.

"What happened in that training room? Why would Ren tell me he's not going to teach me to use the Dark Side?"

"That's between you and him."

"But I don't understand. He's a master of the Dark Side, isn't he?"

"He is."

"Well, is that what he taught you?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated? How?" You heard the Knight sigh from behind his mask, but for the first time since you'd met him, he was silent. Furrowing your brow, you retracted your head, staring at him with a frustrated expression. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"You can either answer my question, or tell me why you're acting so fucking weird."

"Alright, alright," he snapped, and then sighed again. "When Master came back from Exegol, he was...different."

"How?" You pressed.

Gil turned away, like he'd already said too much. But you just kept staring at him, saying nothing, so finally, he continued. "I don't know. I didn't know him before."

You gave him a look. "Everyone in the galaxy knows Kylo Ren."

He hesitated, but continued. "Before Exegol, Snoke taught him how to wield the Dark Side. But that's not Master's way."

"So...he didn't teach you to use the Dark Side?"

"Oh, he did," Gil murmured. "He did. The things he taught me to do, the power he taught me to feel..." He swallowed thickly before continuing, abandoning the thought. "But he urged us not to be seduced by it. He said we can't let it consume us, or it'll only be our undoing."

"That's...surprisingly smart of him."

"Right. Well, not everyone thinks so. Many people on this ship would have us believe that the Dark Side is the only way."

"And what do you think?"

"I think what Master Ren taught me to think. There must be a balance, or both sides of the Force will collapse. You must master _both_ of them. It's how he rose to power. How he defeated Snoke. Except when he came back from Exegol people thought he seemed...weaker. Not everyone thinks he's fit to rule."

"I don't think he seems weak."

"That's because you didn't see him in his prime. He was legendary. Ruthless."

"He still is."

"They say they miss the old Kylo Ren. Apparently, when he came back from Exegol, he lacked a certain...fire."

"I witnessed him strangle and then stab a guy, like, last week."

"Well, that's child's play for Master," Gil said, turning to look at you.

You gulped.

"I trust Master Ren," he continued, and there wasn't a shred of doubt in his voice. "It's everyone else on this ship that I don't trust."

You didn't say a word to the Knight when he dropped you off at your quarters. You were left alone in the same small, empty room, with nothing but a droid for company. As you lied on top of your blanket, staring at the ceiling, it occurred to you that the service droid was basically your only friend on the entire Steadfast.

And that was really depressing.

As expected, Ren didn't send for you the following morning. There was another ambassador's meeting in the evening, but you didn't hear a word from the Emperor.

You didn't know why you expected anything else.

And you hated yourself for being disappointed. What had you expected this to be--finishing school? Did you think he'd kiss you and then send you a handwritten love note? Perhaps pass you in the hallway and giggle to his friends?

By the time the majority of the day had passed and you were getting ready for the meeting, you realized your nerves were sparking, jolts of anxiety surging through your body. Your hands were trembling as you dressed in one of your favorite gowns from home. Purple tulle wrapped your body, covering only one shoulder, fabric billowing downwards on one side like half of a cape. You felt regal, but still entirely out of place.

But you imagined a change of wardrobe would do little to help you on that front. At this point, your clothing was the only thing you had left of home.

You tried to shove down your nerves as you marched towards the meeting hall. Gil was silent, but maybe that was just because you weren't egging him on for once. You couldn't speak with him if you tried.

Your mind was too full of Kylo Ren.

As you walked into the meeting chamber, you tried to keep your cool. But in an instant, your gaze found him. However, his gaze was set forward. He didn't even flinch in your direction when you strolled into the room. You were flooded with disappointment all over again.

Everyone else, however, stood to greet you, each of them bowing their heads in respect. It seemed that word had gotten around about what Kylo had done to Dara, the man who had insulted you in the _last_ meeting. Apparently, the message the Emperor was trying to send was working doubly. Not only were they watching themselves around you, but they were even going out of their way to ensure you felt respected. 

That was more than Kylo could say, at least.

You gave the circle of chairs a vague nod as you lowered yourself into your seat. They had changed it, you noticed. Now, you were only a few chairs down from the Emperor, though you still weren't at his side. You stood with your back straight and your chin lifted, trying to feign a sense of regality that you just didn't quite feel.

The meeting passed, for a while, without anything exciting happening. From the handful of other briefs you'd attended, you'd already learned the number of ships in the fleet, and virtually everything else General Organa had asked for. Only after a half hour or so, when the conversation finally landed upon Bothawui, was your interest piqued.

"The incident in Bothawui has forced us to ask how to act in light of other insurrections," the Grand Moff said. She was as severe as she was stiff and boring. Only the subject of the massacre was enough to draw your focus.

"Should we be prepared for other insurrections?" Asked an ambassador.

"We should prepare for sporadic, disorganized revolts. If they are dealt with swiftly, as was the situation on Bothawui, we will prevent any long-term rebellions."

You'd promised yourself you'd behave. And yet somehow, before you could stop yourself, your mouth was open, and you were speaking without thinking:

"That kind of logic will get us all killed."

In an instant, every eye in the room was glued to you. You felt your insides deflate; the moment you'd gained their respect, even if it was only earned by fear and not by merit, you were about to run the risk of becoming the next Ambassador Dara.

Your eyes flashed towards Ren. He was sitting upright in his throne, gloved fingers gripping the armrests. He'd warned you many times over against speaking out—especially in front of his officials. But you'd already opened your mouth. You were already kriffed. So you may as well continue with what you had to say. 

"Not only was slaughtering the citizens of Bothawui a cruel thing to do, but it only worked against you. Your stormtroopers killed any witnesses who would have been able to tell you what actually happened that night." Now, you were speaking directly to the Emperor. "Besides. It's no secret that your allies only align with the Order out of fear. This was the worst thing you could have done in terms of ensuring good relations."

Your heart was already hammering by the time you'd finished speaking. And it was rightfully so. Ren only held your gaze for a few moments before he shot to his feet. He addressed the room, but his gaze was fixed on you.

"Get. Out," he ordered darkly.

You knew the command was meant for everyone but you. All you could do was hold his gaze, though you couldn't see his eyes, as the ambassadors and officials scampered from the room. Only a few seconds after the door had closed, leaving you alone, did Ren finally move a muscle.

He thundered towards you, fists clenched. You couldn't even process it when he lifted a hand to grip your jaw, wrenching your head upwards towards his. You felt his chest brush yours, and the breath kicked out of your lungs.

"You dare speak out against me. How many times will I have to warn you?" He growled.

You sputtered, thrashing your fists against his chest, but he was too strong. He barely struggled as you writhed within his iron-clad grip. 

"You're a stubborn thing, aren't you, Princess?" he seethed. "How many times have I gone easy on you? How many second chances do you think I can give before you've run out my patience?"

For the first time since being caught in his grip—literally—you whimpered. And you ignored the heat pooling in your stomach.

"You think you deserve another?" He breathed.

"Get off me," you choked, thrusting your fists against his chest. But still, he didn't budge.

He leaned his face in lower, so the cold metal of his mask nearly brushed your forehead. He was so close to you, that you could count each ragged, artificial breath through his vocoder. 

"Have it your way," he growled.

He shoved you off of him, and you stumbled back. 

"You can't order me around like that," you spat. 

"And why's that, Princess?"

"Because of _that_!" You sputtered. "Because of what you just called me! I'm the _princess_ of the Hapes Consortium, the Chume'da of-"

"You are nothing without me, do you understand? Your title is nothing to me. _You're_ nothing. The only power you wield is the power that I wish to give you, and the power that I'm kind enough to allow you to keep. You'd be wise not to test my patience more than you already have." 

" _What in all of the hells do you think give you the right to speak to me like_ -"

" _ENOUGH_!" Kylo's voice was thunderous, strained as it ripped from his throat, sending jolts of fear through your gut. You fell silent, but your face was as taut as it was twisted with anger.

"Do you not realize that when I open my mouth in those meetings that I'm trying to _help_ you? You speak of preventing insurrections, but _you're_ the one causing them! If you don't want to hear my council, then why make me come to these stupid things?"

"I've made it clear to you that my officials were keen on this arrangement, not me," he hissed. "So you can start by giving your opinion when I _ask_ for it."

"That's not what advisors _do_!" You argued.

"I won't allow you to tell me how to govern my own ship!" He growled.

"Fine! Then go get yourself killed by rebels! See if I care!"

"Careful," Kylo hissed.

"This is pathetic. You're just taking out your anger on me."

"Don't speak to me about my anger." His voice shook.

"Just admit it. After what happened in the weapons room...you want so badly to hate me but you _can't_."

At that, Kylo's hand flew upwards. You flinched, but the blow never came. Instead, he held his fist awkwardly in the air, near the side of your face. And soberingly, you realized he'd stopped himself from hitting you. You swallowed thickly, eyes darting between his face and his fist, which you realized was shaking. 

"Do it," you breathed. You weren't sure what that would accomplish. You weren't sure why you wanted him to do it. You weren't sure why you wanted it at all.

Kylo released something of a growl, but he tore himself away from you. Something in your chest deflated with disappointment as he paced across the room, planting himself near the doorway, huffing as he forced distance between you.

"What's the matter?" you growled. "Can't?"

Kylo didn't say anything, but his entire body trembled.

"You're weak," you breathed. "Just like everyone says you are. Y-"

Before you could utter another sound, you felt all the air drain from your lungs, as if somehow, something was sucking it out of you. Instinctively, a hand flew to your throat. You tried to gulp down a breath, but it was as if something invisible was clenching your airway.

It dawned on you all too slowly that Kylo Ren was choking you.

Slowly, he raised his hand, palm facing you, fingers slightly curled. And the sensation only worsened. You felt yourself rise into the air until your toes were no longer brushing the floor. Blood pounded in your ears. You clawed at your throat and slowly, eyes bulging at they stared at him.

Without having seen him move, you realized that suddenly, he was standing right in front of you, hand still outstretched, nearly brushing your face.

"It's clear that you've forgotten your place," he clipped. "I suggest you try and remember. Quickly."

You gasped, and managed to suck down a small stream of air.

Without another word, Kylo lowered his hand, and you collapsed into a heap. Groaning as your body clattered against the hard floor, you instinctively shrunk away the second you realized that Kylo was slowly stalking you. You scooted back on your hands and ass as the beast towered above your body.

"You endanger your people by defying me, don't you know that? You threaten the lives of everyone who lives on your sad little rock. Push me to my limit, Princess, and see what I'll do. Just watch. You may find that you'll never have a home-planet to return to when I'm done with it." Kylo's voice was low and smooth. Almost _sensual_ , as he spoke about blowing up your planet. It made your stomach twist. He knelt down to you, and stared at you with those barely-inquisitive cocked head. And you realized that he was enjoying this.

"Fuck you," you spat.

"I'm giving you the option," he murmured, his brow knitting together. "To apologize to me. To submit to me. To admit your failure, and I will rescind your punishment."

"That...that is not going to happen."

He stood. "Very well. Then the people of Hapes will suffer for your foolishness."

"No!" You screamed, as he began to swiftly walk from the room. "No, wait!"

Kylo stood in his tracks, and then slowly, he turned. He stared down at you—you, crumpled on the floor, literally on your hands and knees. "Please. Anything but that."

"Fine," he said, lowering himself to kneel in front of you once again. "Then choose."

"W-what?"

"Choose. I will punish your people. Send in my stormtroopers to rough them up. Burn down a marketplace or two." Your stomach turned over. Your soul felt like it was imploding. "Or," he continued, and instantly, something flickered inside of your chest. "You will take their place."

"You're insane."

"Is that your answer?"

"You will never lay a hand on my people," you spat. "Not while I'm around."

"Why?" He asked, voice empty. And you actually heard a flicker of curiosity in his voice. "You don't even know them. You'd never have to even look them in the eye. What's stopping you from letting them suffer in your place?"

"If you can't answer that question yourself, then you're beyond explaining to."

Instantly, Kylo was on his feet, a hand laced in your hair. "That's what I thought you'd say." A scream choked you as he began to drag you by your locks. You kicked your legs, scooting yourself awkwardly on your hands to offset the weight being torn against your scalp. But just as soon as you registered the pain that was blinding you, Kylo was yanking to you your feet and roughly spinning you around. Disoriented, you fell forward, hands catching on something hard and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw that you were bent over the back of his throne.

You kept yourself propped on your hands, arms stiff, as if actually leaning against it was the last thing you wanted. You swallowed, staring at the dark, unfeeling stone. You didn't dare look at the Emperor.

"Now," his voice purred from behind you. It was soft. Gravelly, but smooth. Calmer than normal. Steady. You felt his fingers graze the back of your thigh, the fabric of your dress whispering against your skin. You softened at the touch. "No matter how much this hurts, remember that you deserve it."

The pain came before you were ready for it. The blow was stifled only by your long, draping gown. The pain was certainly dulled, but the snapping of leather against your ass. You bit back a scream, but what erupted was a strangled choke.

"This is what filthy things like you enjoy, hm? Isn't this how you learn?"

Your face flushed hot with shame, lower lip quaking. You parted your lips to speak, but nothing came out. You couldn't come up with a suitable lie in time. So instead, you just stared at the obsidian throne beneath your vision, inhaling a rattling stream of air as you felt his hand skim the slope of your ass.

" _Fuck_ ," you breathed.

"What's that?"

"Fuck you," you spat.

He hummed. His breath stuttered, like it was actually a small chuckle. You clenched your throat in response. "That's what I thought," he purred.

Kylo didn't give you a warning before bringing his hand down to strike your ass once again. You jolted under the touch, flinching from the pain. But you had to clench your teeth to stifle a moan. You heard him inhale sharply. The second spank came faster. And harder.

Again, he hummed lowly from behind you, hand gentle but threatening as he laced it up the small of your back. "This is your punishment," he mumbled. "You're not supposed to be enjoying it."

Your lips bubbled open, and you released a small yelp as his hand assaulted the skin of your ass-cheek once again. He didn't even bother to get the other side to offset the pain; he was stacking one layer of agony on top of another.

Moaning, your hips writhed. Again, he inhaled sharply. You heard him stir from behind you, and then you heard him exhale: " _Fuck_."

You went rigid. You'd expected he was enjoying this, but how _much_ he was enjoying this was the key question. Your brow knit, but before you could ponder the thought, Kylo hit you again. And then, without hesitation, he hit you again. And again.

The pain was blinding. No matter how profusely you were dripping with desire, your legs had begun to tremble from exhaustion. Tears were prickling your eyes. And as your breath steadied, you noticed that Kylo's was only growing more ragged. Finally, his hand had gone still. You sputtered out another agony-filled moan, though the desperation in your voice was clear, the it was threaded with conflict and shame.

Kylo pressed himself against you, burrowing his hips against your ass. Your forearms trembled, still pressed against the throne, as you fought to keep your body steady enough to support yourself. And you held your breath as you noticed, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was hard.

Shame and shock and fear rose inside you and spilled outwards. You sputtered again, releasing another bubbling cry as you white-knuckled the back of the throne, leaning your forehead against the back of your hand. Every inch of you burned.

And then—an unmistakable hissing, followed by a soft rustling of skin against metal, and a heavy thunk.

When Kylo Ren breathed again, you heard his voice without the alteration of the vocoder. He'd dropped his helmet to the ground, and was almost gasping for air, now. Your own breath stalled as you waited. You weren't sure what you were waiting for, exactly. He was so temperamental, you had half a mind that he'd throw you out. But after a few heavy, empty seconds, Kylo made his decision. He jolted forward to seize you by the biceps, wrenching you upright and spinning you around so he pinned your wrists to his chest.

He stared down at you as he spoke. "I suggest you make your choice quickly," he growled. His eyes were darker than you'd even seen them. "Leave, or submit to me. Now."

You shifted your weight, shaking your head. "Even if I stay, that doesn't mean I'll submit to you."

"What if I make you?" His chin jerked upwards.

Swallowing thickly, you felt yourself pool with desire. Wetness and heat enveloped your core, legs nearly giving out from under you. Regardless of the consequences, regardless of what you _should_ do, what you wanted to do was too overpowering. You were a lost cause. And there was no going back.

"You can try," you breathed.

You closed your eyes as he collapsed in on you. He seized you roughly, hands dropping your wrists to wrap around your middle, trailing low to grasp your ass as he assaulted your mouth with his. His tongue forced its way in between your lips and you sucked back on it, grinding your hips forward to drag across his cock. 

Suddenly, he pulled away, only to grasp a hand around your jaw. Your breath hitched as he drove his thumb upwards, wriggling his thumb into your mouth. Involuntarily, your lips closed around it. Ever since that day in the throne room, you'd longed to have a part of him inside you again.

"You know I'm going to make you regret it, don't you? Every smart word that's come out of that whore mouth of yours. Every little misstep." His free fingers tightened around your jaw, and his hand lowered to your throat. Your lips parted, and you released a small choke. "You've no idea how long I've waited for this. How long I've wanted to make you pay."

With his hand gripping your windpipe, for once, you couldn't argue. But his mouth was on yours again so quickly that you couldn't even if you'd wanted to.

Kylo growled against your mouth, fingertips rough and unforgiving against your ass. Then, without warning, they moved to your waist. With little to no effort, Kylo flipped you around until once again, you were bracing yourself on the back of his throne.

The rustling of fabric. And before you could will yourself to inhale, one hand was suddenly slipping up the length of your thigh, shoving away your skirts as it went. Practically burning with desire, it was all you could do not to sob in desperation as Kylo reached under your skirts and tugged down your panties.

Gripping your skirts around your waist with trembling fingers, you jolted as he pressed the dripping head of his cock at your entrance. And then his free hand was wrapped around your neck once again, jerking you towards him so his lips rested at the back of your head.

You could hear the raggedness of his breaths, and his cock was sliding against your pussy. Instantly, it became clear that he was jerking himself off. You tried to stifle a moan, but there was no point in resisting. Your lips parted and you groaned, eyes fluttering shut, writhing your ass against his cock.

"Kylo," you whined. "Please."

"Such a filthy thing." he murmured against your ear, grasping your throat. Your lips fell open and you wheezed, trying to draw breath. "You want this?" Suddenly, he slid his cock through your folds. Your knees buckled, and legs would've given out from under you if he wasn't holding you upright—by the neck, no less.

Whimpering, you nodded.

"You want me to fuck you with all of my ambassadors waiting outside?"

He let up on your throat. You sputtered out a cry, nodding profusely. "Yes, Kylo, _please_."

Kylo squeezed again.

" _Emperor_ ," you choked, the word so strangled it was barely intelligible. " _Please_ ,"

" _Whore_ ," he groaned. And with a heavy, rattling inhale, Kylo Ren slid himself inside of you.

Your jaw fell slack as you took every inch, feeling him fill you to the brim. You hadn't seen his cock, but that was the only thing that could have prepared you for the sheer size. He stretched you so intensely that the walls of your cunt were all but screaming. But you were so wet that in an instant, he was coated, sheathing himself easily. His hips met your ass and he shuddered, groaning against the shell of your ear, pressing his stomach against your back.

"Kylo," you breathed, windpipe still straining against his fingers.

" _Fuck_ ," he growled, drawing himself out only to thrust back into you with a force that shouldn't have been legal. This time, you released a shuddering scream, throat burning. You knew you were going to have bruises. You didn't care. The sound of smacking skin that filled the room was so loud that you knew every official, every 'trooper, every kriffing radar technician aboard that damned ship would know that the Emperor of the galaxy was fucking you in the observatory.

"You slut," he growled. "You like that, hm?"

Whimpering again, you nodded, only to release a long, languid moan as Kylo found his pace. He grunted as his hips fell into a rough but steady rhythm. He pounded into you, and each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure tingling throughout your body. To your surprise, he moved both hands to your chest. Gulping down lungfuls of air to stave your oxygen-hungry body, the moans that were still escaping your throat quickly grew desperate and ragged. His hands slid quickly up your ribcage, seizing your breasts through your gown. You cursed under your breath, wishing you were free of the garment, wishing you could feel his warmth. But he felt so outrageously good that you couldn't imagine stopping, not even to remove your clothing.

"Kylo," you mewled again, pressing your ass against his hips. His hands were ungentle, peppering bruises in their wake. Your sleeve fell off your shoulder and his lips dove to your neck. Sinking his teeth into your skin, he released a muffled grunt into the side of your throat.

"Fuck," he growled, as the fabric of your skirts began to slip down the small of your back, threatening to bar him from your pussy. His hands quickly moved to your hips, holding up your skirt, ramming your ass back to meet his cock. You gasped as the sensation, and the walls of your cunt fluttered. Too quickly, you were coming undone.

And then came the sensation you never expected.

You thought he'd moved his hand again when you felt the pressure on your clit. But then you realized that all ten fingers were currently digging into your hipbones so tightly that you feared they'd shatter.

"What-" you tried, but your jaw fell slack as your clit buzzed, bathing you in warmth.

He hummed. "Not so fucking outspoken now, are we?" He hissed.

You'd been fortunate to have many tutors over the years. And you'd read many books about the Force.

Not one of them could have prepared you for what Emperor Ren was doing to you now.

Your shuddered violently, your entire body buzzing, clit the center of attention. Kylo swirled the Force around your nub and it was bringing you close to the brink faster than what should have been possible. Too quickly, too easily, you were losing control, the moans now tumbling from your lips with abandon, gradually turning into cries, and then, screams.

"Kylo!" you yelped, pressing your hips back against his.

" _Fuck yes,_ " he growled against your ear. Your hipbones ached under his fingers. You were positive he was about to break them.

"Please Kylo, I- I'm close."

"Did I give you permission to cum, Princess?" he grunted through clenched teeth.

"No, but I-" your legs began to tremble in earnest, and your entire body wracked with an overwhelming wave of pleasure. "I can't, I-"

"Beg me for it, slut," he growled.

"No," you whimpered, head thrashing from side to side in protest as pleasure mounted in your belly.

The invisible pressure on your clit relented. You threw your head back, resting it against his shoulder, as you writhed your hips against him. "No, no,no, no, _fine_! Please!" you cried. " _Please, Kylo, please let me cum, fuck_!" 

"You disobeyed me again," he huffed through violent thrusts. The sound of his hips against your ass was deafening. And it only made you ache for release all the more. "I think you'll need to beg loud enough for my ambassadors to hear you.

Your lower lip trembled. But you were desperate. You inhaled on a rattling breath, rolling your head to the side against his shoulder in delirious desire. " _Fucking hells, Kylo, please let me cum on your cock_!" 

When the pressure returned, it was back in tenfold. Your legs gave out. Kylo wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you upright as he pounded you into the back of the throne. Your hands laced in his hair, reaching back to grasp for him and his body rolled against yours. Everything buzzed and burned. Within seconds, pleasure was overtaking you, and your mind was numb to everything but the obscene sound of skin slapping skin and the pressure at your cunt. With your head against his shoulder, you lifted your chin, face twisted in ecstasy. And Kylo pounded you through an orgasm that sent nothing but hot-whiteness through your vision.

"Fuck, Kylo, I— _fuckyesthat'ssofuckinggoodjustlikehtatohmyfuckinggods_."

What started as a scream ended in a whimper. As wave after wave of pleasure wracked through your body, you erupted in violent jolts, until your climax dissipated. Trembling, delirious, and whimpering, you went slack again, collapsing against the back of Kylo's throne, heaving for air.

"Good girl," he growled, but his pace wasn't relenting. You'd already reached your peak. Kylo was just getting started.

You whimpered as he pounded you, thrusts and breaths becoming more erratic.

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed. "Fuck, you're-"

"Yes," you begged. " _Yes, please, Kylo, fucking give it to me_."

"You fucking whore," he growled, slamming into you. The weight of his thrusts wracked you violently against the throne. All too soon, your overstimulated pussy was feeling the beginnings of pleasure all over again.

But Kylo's cock twitched inside of you. Without warning, his hands were at your arms, spinning you roughly around and shoving you to your knees. You caught your breath as you stared up at him.

You were met with the sight of Kylo Ren. Pumping his cock over your face.

"You want this?" He growled.

Desperate, you nodded.

Instantly, his free hand wrapped into your hair, shoving your face onto his cock. You opened your mouth and swallowed him down, still unprepared for his size. Your nose wrinkled at the taste of your own sex, but you bobbed your head urgently, feeling him breach the back of your throat. Whimpering, you pumped him through your lips with one hand.

"That's a good little Princess," he breathed, snapping his hips, ramming his cock into the back of your throat. Sputtering, you began to gag, but Kylo only shoved himself in deeper.

"Fuck yes," he growled. " _Fuck yes. Yes_."

Your eyes watered, vision blinded by tears. But in the instant you thought you were about to choke to death, Kylo pulled himself from your mouth, releasing his load onto your face.

Your breath caught as you felt rope after rope of hot cum splash across your cheeks, nose, and eyes. Involuntarily, you opened your mouth, catching a bit of him on your tongue. Kylo grunted, panting as he came, pumping himself through the last of his pleasure. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes. And Kylo Ren was staring down at you, cock in hand.

He hummed. And then brought a finger to stroke your cheekbone, coating his thumb in his cum.

" _Good girl_ ," were the only low, gravelly words out of his mouth before he was stuffing himself back into his trousers. 

Shakily, you rose to your feet, still shrunken under his height. Kylo stared down at you from mere inches away, examining your face.

He held your gaze for a moment. For a split-second, you thought he might even say something nice. But then, he ripped himself away from you. First, he picked up his helmet and swiftly placed it back onto his head. Then, he ripped himself even further away from you, walking like an Emperor. Like he hadn't even cum, wasn't even tired, crossing the room until he reached a box of small, paper tissues. 

He returned, gently dabbing at your face. He stared at the place where the tissue touched your skin, as if focusing on the task. As if completing it with _care_. You knew it wasn't a proper wash, but if you kept a few feet in between you and everyone you passed in the corridor, it was better than nothing.

"You're no longer welcome in this meeting," he pondered, emotionless. "You will return to my quarters. We'll continue our discussion when I'm finished with my business here."

"But I-"

"I won't hear another word from you." His head snapped to center on your eyes, but his tone was cool and even. You swallowed thickly, for once, rendered completely speechless. "Go. Now."

You held his gaze for as long as you were able. But you knew he wouldn't tolerate another "insurrection." So you obeyed, turning around and heading for the door.

"Princess."

You stopped in your tracks. Slowly, you turned around again.

"Be ready for me when I return."

You opened your lips to speak, but couldn't even think of a response. Something jolted inside of your chest, and without a word, you headed for the door, bringing the strap of your dress back up your shoulder.

Stepping into the hallway, you were met with about fifteen ambassadors and a line of 'troopers guarding the room. Your breath failed, but your stomach was alive and well, lurching into your throat as countless eyes bored into your flushed body, ruffled hair, swollen lips, barely-clean face. Feeling as though you were going to be sick, you lifted your chin, and began to walk in the direction of Kylo's quarters. As you did, four 'troopers peeled themselves from the walls, following you, blasters in hand, escorting you to the Emperor's apartment.

The 'troopers were following you. No longer caging you in. And the ambassadors, shocked and scandalized as they may be, didn't say a fucking thing.

A small smile painted its way onto your lips.

You could do whatever the fuck you wanted.

Because of Kylo Ren—you had all the power in the kriffing galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END NOTES: Just wanted to give credit to the iconic Kassanovella (author of Fix Your Attitude) for popularizing inappropriate use of the force. I'm not claiming she was the first ever, and I know that many fics use it by now, but I wanted to give credit to how I discovered it, because this scene wouldn't have been the same without it.


	12. Just Lie There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey pals. Warnings are similar for this chapter. If you ever attempt anything like this, you MUST do your proper research and use a safe word. Cheers and be safe.

You hated that he was still making you wait.

It's not like he really had to. He was the kriffing Emperor. If he wanted to, he could call the meeting off. End it early. He wouldn't have even needed a reason.

But an hour and a half following the incident in the observation room, you were still waiting. Your arms were folded hotly over your chest as you paced about his room.

There wasn't a doubt in your mind that he was doing this on purpose.

At long last, you'd decided to snoop through the rest of his apartment. You weren't even sure if you were surprised to find that there was very little to see. You didn't go through the desk in the study, which was dark, sterile, and minimal, like the rest of the Steadfast. You were sure it was all boring, political stuff, anyway, and if there was anything pressing you'd need to report to the Resistance, you'd hear about it in time.

You could feel it, after all. How Kylo Ren was slowly bringing you into the fold of his advisors. You knew it wasn't what he wanted; he'd never wanted _you_ , after all. But he _needed_ you. He needed Hapes. He needed control of the Inner Rim.

Besides the bedroom, closet, study, entryway, and refresher, there wasn't really much to see. You were resigned to spend the bulk of your time waiting for his return on the sofa in his bedroom doing just that—waiting. Bored, angry, and frustrated, (in more ways than one) when you finally heard the blast door hiss open in the entryway, you leapt to your feet in less than a second.

You held your breath. You heard a faint click through the wall, and then, a thunk of metal hitting the floor.

When Kylo Ren finally emerged in the doorway of his bedroom, his helmet was gone. And you were met with his eyes.

Swallowing thickly, you shot towards him. "What in all hells was that? What were you thinking?"

"Princess," he greeted emotionlessly. There wasn't a shred of care or affection in his voice. Not even after he'd fucked you. Not even after he'd made you think that maybe—just maybe—he felt a sliver of any sort of warm feeling whatsoever towards you. The indifference in his voice and infuriatingly handsome face only made your blood stir even more.

"You..." you sputtered, face growing hot. " _Has anyone ever told you that you're fucking insane_?"

"No. Because if anyone other than you spoke to me like that, I'd have them killed."

"By all means. Put me out of my misery," you spat.

"I'm afraid my advisors would disapprove," he hummed, brushing past you to remove his cape, tossing it to the floor, and placing his lightsaber in its usual place on the mantle.

He wasn't even looking at you. You surged with anger. That day in the weapons room, that day in his bedroom, the first time you'd kissed, you sensed that he was desperate. You'd sensed that he _wanted_ you. You'd seen yourself in his mind, tied down to his bed while he ravaged you.

Now that he'd had you once, it seemed that was all he needed. And it only spurred you on.

Why you were furious, you didn't know. You shouldn't want him. You _couldn't_ want him. But every time you saw his eyes, felt his fingertips trailing over your body, you seemed to forget your mission. Why you were here in the first place.

So you could learn his secrets.

And then kill him.

"I...with everyone outside," you sputtered. "They could _hear_ us. That's the most disgusting... _UGH_!" You cried, throwing up your hands.

Finally, Kylo turned towards you, his face as blank and unreadable as ever. "It's not my fault you liked it."

You went rigid, lips parting and jaw setting tightly in horror and anger. "I...I didn't..."

"I think we're past that now, don't you?"

" _I didn't_ -"

" _Enough_. I brought you here to finish our conversation. Since you behaved and accepted your punishment, I thought it was only right to let you know that your little rock is safe, for the time being." You cringed. Every time he referred to Hapes, he did so in a voice that dripped with malice and condescension. It made it hard not to leap up and strangle him. "Though I think it's only fair to point out that retaliation against your precious little planet will always be an option in the future."

"How dare you threaten me. Don't _ever_ threaten me."

"It's only a threat if you misbehave. Submit to your Emperor, and it's merely a warning."

"I need to get something through that thick fucking skull of yours."

"Careful," he hissed, taking a warning step forward.

"I will never 'submit' to you. I'll never just blindly obey you. I don't know how you think a wife is supposed to act, but you're way too old to think the women in your life will just bow down to you at your beck and call. I get you don't want me here. I get that no one has challenged you before, and I get you probably have girls in every port who'd sell their left arm just for one night with you, but I'm here on the behalf of my people. I'm your ally. Not your property. The sooner you grow a second brain cell and figure that out, the easier this is going to be, because guess what? _I don't want to be here either_."

Everything was still. So still and so quiet that for a few moments, you'd regretted your own bravery. Bracing yourself for the moment he'd telekinetically snap your neck, you were shocked to find that the moment didn't come. After a heavy silence, Kylo inhaled deeply, crossing the room at a terrifyingly slow, leisurely pace. Then he landed in front of you, and stared deeply into your eyes.

"You little fool," he breathed, shaking his head and staring down at you with an expression that was almost curious. He snaked a hand to gently cup the side of your neck as he examined you. His thumb pressed softly into your throat. You stopped breathing, straightening your spine. "You honestly haven't figured out how this is going to work."

His fingers tightened a hairsbreadth. Just barely a threat.

"No. _You_ haven't."

He hummed. And his fingers crushed your windpipe. The blood in your head began to squeeze against your face. You could already feel your lips purpling.

"You just don't know when to shut that mouth of yours, do you?" he murmured.

You clawed at his wrists.

"I can see it's not going to be easy to tame you, but you can trust that I'll figure it out," he spat.

Whimpering, your knees buckled. Kylo relented, sliding his hand down your neck until it dragged over your chest, settling on your belly before sliding to your waist.

Okay. So maybe he hadn't gotten over his attraction quite yet.

You trembled, gulping down oxygen greedily as your airway finally became free. But with your body pressed against Kylo's, it was still difficult to breathe.

His lips were inches from yours. Just being close to him had you nearly dripping already. But you didn't understand Kylo in the slightest. How terrifyingly hot and cold he was. 

"Do you want to leave?" he asked you.

You met his eyes, glaring daggers back at him. But you shook your head.

He hummed. "Good."

Ungently, he picked you up and threw you against the bed. You hit the mattress with a gasp but scrambled to your knees, reaching for him.

He kissed you before you could even close your eyes.

But it wasn't tender, or sweet. Instantly, your fingers were fumbling against his belt. You couldn't figure out the clasps, so he slapped your hands away. He yanked off his outer tunic between kisses, and you wasted no time in shoving his undershirt over his head.

Finally, your fingers found the bare skin of his chest. You slid your palms up the expansive wall of muscle, snaking them into his hair.

Kylo sank down on top of you, pinning you on your back. Immediately, you set to work sliding his trousers down his hips. He reached back to yank them off, settling himself between your legs. His breath had already grown ragged. In fact, it was clear he was already losing control. But it excited you. He wrapped a hand around your throat again, clenching his fingers as he kissed you violently, tongue dragging across your lips.

He didn't even bother to take off your dress before shoving aside your skirts, fingers finding your pussy.

"So fucking wet for me already," he hummed, drawing away to gaze down at you. Your face was patchy with a deep, red flush. He pursed his lips in approval, sliding a finger inside your cunt.

You winced. Every part of him was big, but you stretched you accommodate him in no time. Immediately, he added another finger, pumping them in and out of your cunt.

Your lips parted against his mouth, and you rolled your hips upwards.

"Don't move," he growled, settling his free hand at your hip.

"Fuck!" you whined, writhing. You wanted more of him. You wanted _all_ of him.

"Does my Princess want me to fuck her?"

You shuddered, mouth watering.

"Yes," you snapped.

"Ask me nicely."

"Fuck you."

Kylo withdrew his fingers, landing a rough slap against your cunt. Stunned, you yelped in pain, but your clit was buzzing from the impact.

You were desperate, but didn't want to give in that easily. Bringing a hand up to your mouth, you licked your palm before reaching down to stroke his cock.

He growled, but shuddered underneath your hand, eyes giving you an unmistakable, dark waning. He disapproved.

But he couldn't resist.

"You fucking slut," he growled, before wrenching your hand away, lining himself up to your entrance, and plunging inside of you.

He made sure it hurt. He thrusted deep and hard, cock ramming against your cervix. You cried out, and he hummed in satisfaction.

His hips found a rhythm, and as you stared at his face, you realized you could barely draw breath. Before, in the observation room, you hadn't been looking at him while he fucked you; he'd bent you over. But now, you felt particularly vulnerable. Kylo's eyes were focused on the breasts bouncing under your low-cut gown as he rammed into you--thank the Gods. If he'd been looking at your face, you were pretty sure you would have disintegrated.

But unexpectedly, he swallowed your lips once again. Your breath hitched but feverishly, you kissed him back, letting your tongue explore his mouth. He hummed against you, then grunted as his hips found a more brutal pace.

"You will learn to obey me," he growled against your mouth.

"I will not," you strained.

Grunting in fury, he shoved himself off of you, flopping onto his back. "Get on top," he ordered suddenly, jerking his head towards his cock.

Well, it was hard to argue with that one. Gathering your skirts, you swung a leg over to straddle his hips. You gripped his cock in one hand, giving it a slow, torturous stroke. His precum wet your thumb, and you realized just how torturously hard he was. Your mouth watered as you sunk yourself down onto him, releasing a shuddering moan.

"I—oh, fuck yes," you whimpered.

Kylo raised himself to a seated position. You sat in his lap, working your hips as Kylo he reached to the back of your dress. You heard the fabric tearing before you realized what he'd done.

Torn purple fabric pooled at your shoulders, split all the way down to the waist. Your jaw fell slack in surprise but you had no time to argue. Kylo pushed the garment above your head and threw it across the room, hands instantly finding your bare breasts.

You inhaled sharply as he plunged his face into your tits. His mouth was wet and desperate, kissing and sucking over your nipples while his hand squeezed and grasped. He growled against you, and you shuddered in response. Groaning as you sank your hips up and down his cock, you snaked a hand through his hair.

Humming in pleasure, your fingers tightened around his locks once he started using his teeth. He was growing more unhinged by the second; at first his mouth had been warm and soft, but now, he was biting, sucking back on the skin he held between his teeth. You groaned, feeling his tongue drag across your nipple. Once he was satisfied, he lowered himself onto his back, hand sliding up to grasp your tits, eyes admiring his violent handiwork.

You huffed as you slammed yourself down on onto his cock agains and again, head thrown upwards, hair tickling your back.

Longing to feel his warmth, you leaned down to press your palms onto his chest. But nearly in the same split-second, Kylo wrenched your wrists away and pinned you roughly to his chest. Your front flushed with his, your arms no longer bracing you for support, the Emperor took charge. Grunting, he rammed his hips upwards to snap against yours, pace brutal and impossibly fast. Your lips fell open and you cried out, screams and mewls knowing no hesitation as Kylo jackhammered his thrusts up to meet your cunt.

"Fuck! Oh my fucking gods," you screamed, blinded by agonizing pressure and painful bliss. He was hugging your waist so tightly that you could barely breathe, grunting into the curve of your neck.

Then, it stopped. Kylo collapsed underneath you only for a moment before seizing you around the waist with both arms, flipping you over and pinning you onto your back. He lowered himself on top of you and plunged back inside, burying his hips against yours.

"You're pathetic, do you know that?" He panted in between thrusts. "You put on a brave face. Sit in those meetings and play the man. Tell me you'll never obey me." Suddenly, Kylo released a long, heavy moan, as he buried himself inside of you. "But the second I have you alone, you disintegrate under my fingertips. You weak little whore."

Anger flickered inside of you. Your brain was no longer functioning. Without having access to your thoughts, you twisted your arm out from under the weight of his massive body, flinging it as hard as you could, your palm landing across his face.

Kylo shuddered, his face whipping to the side. For a second, you gathered yourself, and held your breath. Gods, he looked sexy like that, face shielded by a quaking curtain of dark, wavy locks.

When he turned back to you, he looked even better.

One side of his face was flushed red and raw. His pupils were blown. Hair wild and dark. The Emperor captured your lips, curling his tongue into your mouth and placing a smack to your tit. You cried out, the sound muffled against his mouth. Kylo grappled your breast in response, rolling it within his palm, digging his fingers into the soft, malleable flesh.

You were going to look completely battered in the morning. But you didn't care. In fact, you didn't want him to stop.

You moaned against his mouth and he rammed into you harder. The bed scooted back an inch. You gasped at the force of his thrusts, feeling him press against your cervix. You released a shuddering cry, not totally convinced he wasn't about to fuck you literally to death.

But then, Kylo did something you never would have expected while pounding into you, hips smacking your skin obscenely. He laughed. His eyes were empty, the smile small, barely there. His face wore something more like a grimace. But still, the humor was plain.

" _What_ ," you growled, your stomach pooling with heat.

Kylo rammed into you with a particularly rough thrust, and you released a scream before you were able to swallow it down. The sharp sound ripped through your throat, so jagged and sharp it felt like glass sliding against the walls of your windpipe. The bed scooted again.

He pressed his lips to your jaw, air falling in thick streams across the side of your face. "Gil and Rharo are outside," he chuckled, lips slightly muffled against your skin. "I asked them to guard my door tonight."

Your stomach twisted with warmth, and again, you failed to hold back an obscene moan. Gil and Rharo were just outside...Kylo's quarters were expansive, but you were so loud that they could likely hear every moan, certainly every scream. But you didn't care. You were on the brink of release, and even though you should have cared, even though you knew you'd regret it in the morning, you didn't give a fuck. Because now, you were with Kylo, plastered underneath him as he fucked you for all you were worth, as he pounded you so hard, you felt yourself begin to unravel.

"Kylo," you strangled, feeling your arms and chest burst with warmth and heat. "Fuck, I-oh Gods. I'm gonna cum."

"Beg me so my Knights can hear it."

The same swirling sensation began to whirl around your clit. Your mouth fell open, back arching as an even stronger wave of pleasure shredded through your body. You burned with shame. "Please, please let me cum. Please, I _-oh gods, please don't stop._ " By the time you'd finished speaking, your legs had already begun to quake.

"Cum," he spat, slapping your breast once again.

Your eyes clamed shut, head thrown back against the pillow, spine arching in bliss. You opened your mouth as you came but no sound came out, a scream building in your throat. Only after you were thrown into the throngs of pleasure did you release it. The sound ripped out of your lungs and your body trembled, fingers scratching down Kylo's back as he fucked you through your orgasm.

It felt like your body was vibrating as you settled back against the pillows, collapsing from your peak. But Kylo's thrusts had only grown stronger. He wracked against your frame, and your cervix ached from the pressure. He growled against your ear, finally releasing himself. Your breath hitched as he flooded your cunt with spurts of cum, but you didn't stop him. The feeling of him filling you up was too good to pass up.

Finally, he relaxed. He hovered over your body for a moment, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes fluttered shut.

And then he pulled himself away from, and out of you, collapsing onto his back, propped onto his elbows as he caught his breath.

"You'll need to see my physician tomorrow," he said emotionlessly, running a hand through his hair. "Make sure you're not..." he waved a hand noncommittally in your direction.

You swallowed, stunned at how he managed to be so thoughtful and so completely careless in the same breath. "Right."

Trembling, you lifted yourself to a seated position, air rattling on the way out of your lungs. You only realized how violently you were shaking when you tried to swing your legs over the side of the mattress.

But then, suddenly, you were being yanked back down. You back flopped against the bed, and something was gripping your bicep.

Not something.

Kylo.

"What are you-" you began.

"Where do you think you're going?" He clipped. You turned to him, and saw that his head was raised off the pillow, staring at you like you'd just suggested that Emperor Palpatine had been a part-time ballerina.

"I...what do you mean? I'm leaving you alone."

"Did I ask you to leave?"

"No?"

"Then lie back down."

Hesitantly, you nuzzled yourself back onto the bed, but stayed rigid and awkward as you lied on your back. Staring up at the ceiling, you realized that you felt extremely exposed, which was pretty ironic.

A beat. "Why would you try to leave without my permission?"

You knit your brow, not daring to look at him, too tired to argue about whether or not you needed his permission. "Because usually we get along best if we don't have to speak to one another?"

He made a noise. "We're fine," he huffed, before clambering off the bed and disappearing into the closet.

Seconds later, he emerged in a pair of athletic joggers. By accident, you stared wide-eyed at his bare chest as he crossed back over to the bed.

You gulped when he approached you, eyes darting up to catch in the trap of his gaze.

It was silent and still. Calm, even, which was surprising. For a split-second, you thought there was even a shred of a possibility that he'd do something bordering on affectionate.

Instead, his hand darted out to grasp the comforter, ripping it down the bed.

You jostled uncomfortably as the comforter was ripped out from under you. But instantly, you got the hint, reaching down to gather the bunched blankets and pull them up to your shoulders. You tried to snuggle into the mattress, but found yourself unable to relax. No part of you was calm as Kylo Ren climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over his waist.

He was on his back, too, staring at the ceiling just as you'd been doing a moment ago. Except now, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off of him. His eyes were drooping with the desire for sleep. You'd never seen him look tired before. Whenever you saw him without his helmet, he was either completely unconscious from an explosion wound, or running the galaxy with an iron-fist and a terrifying amount of stamina. You'd never seen him calm before. Close to drifting off. Kylo exhaled deeply and his body relaxed against the mattress. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and cleared his throat a little.

He was beautiful. Tired and angry but for the time being, at least, resolved to get some sleep.

He outstretched his hand, and the lights dimmed until the room was pitch-black.

Impressive.

"You sure you don't want me to go?" you asked the darkness.

"You'd know if I wanted you to go."

"Okay," you murmured, tightening the blankets around your shoulders. Awkwardly, you began to inch towards him. "Do you want me to-"

"No," he responded shortly. Then, he relaxed a little. "Just lie there."

For a long while, it was silent. Kylo was still, hands folded over his stomach, chest rising slowly with air, before deflating. His eyes were closed, though he may have been able to sense you staring. You didn't care. It wasn't likely you'd be able to pry your eyes off of him if you tried. You knew there were several reasons why that was a bad thing, but for once, you didn't let yourself feel guilty about it. You didn't let yourself feel guilty for sleeping with the enemy, for getting distracted from your mission. For once, you decided to just let yourself enjoy something. There would still be plenty of time for guilt in the morning.

You were sure he'd been just dozing off. When he'd first lied down, his breaths were quick and sharp--his neutral. They'd begun to even out over the minutes that passed. But just as he seemed to be truly dozing off, you realized that you didn't want to be left without him, even if just for the night.

"Kylo," you breathed into the darkness, not even sure he was awake.

"Princess." His voice was rough and jagged...and a little irritated. As if he'd just woken up.

"Can I ask you something?"

Kylo released a lengthy inhale, taking his time before he cracked his neck side to side before giving you a gravelly and curt "mhmm."

A healthy dosage of guilt roiled in your gut, but you turned on your side to face him, folding your hands under your cheek.

"Why Naboo?"

He inhaled slowly. "Naboo's loyalties have changed over the many years, but most recently, it was a Republic Stronghold. Its rulers were martyrs. When it mattered, Naboo's sided with the rebels. It will be a good symbol to see it turned over to the Final Order."

You nodded slowly. That made perfect sense. "I guess you'll want the Resistance to see that one of their greatest historical bases is now the epicenter of the Order. It's a smart move. A real blow to their morale." Your stomach turned. Internally, you apologized to General Organa.

He hummed.

"Naboo doesn't seem like the type of place the Final Order would want to go," you said. "It's so...lush. You know. A lot of plants, from what I've heard." It wasn't as if you'd ever seen a succulent aboard the Steadfast. Everything was cold and metallic. Not a living thing in sight.

"Servants in Naboo are already slashing the gardens as we speak. My officials thought it needed to have more of a sterile look. I agreed."

Uncomfortable, you shifted back onto your back. "That's a shame. I've heard Naboo was very beautiful."

You heard a soft rustling of fabric, and swallowed thickly. You felt Kylo Ren's gaze as if it was burning your skin.

"I'll make sure you'll have garden, if that's what you like."

Your brow pinched, and you yanked back your neck, stunned. "Thanks," you said in a voice that was way too small to be yours.

Silence. And then- "Go to sleep," he murmured, flipping over onto his side. You were met with the sight of his back. You weren't sure why he'd made you stay if he didn't want to touch you.

You inhaled sharply, too tired to argue, and too dazed to feel like you could put up a real fight. You were lying there next to Kylo Ren...in his bed. You weren't sure how you'd gotten there.

But you were positive you didn't want to leave.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

When Kylo climbed out of bed the following morning, his Princess barely stirred.

Kylo knew it was the equivalent of dawn, though they'd only seen the blackness of space for weeks. For the first time in a while, he was actually keen to get on some fucking land. Somewhere he could see an actual sky, for the gods' sake.

He gazed down at the girl for a few moments. She'd turned onto her side, but was still sleeping soundly. Dreaming, actually. Kylo pinched his brow as he watched her eyes dart from side to side under the lids. He felt almost a sliver of concern and he gazed at her. Almost. He wondered if she were having a nightmare, but he didn't really care. Because regardless, she looked beautiful. Hands still neatly tucked under her face, legs curled elegantly under the blanket. Hair tossed out like a lion's mane or a hawk's nest.

Something kicked in his chest. He ignored it, dressed, and set off for the bridge.

The Emperor often liked to oversee the pilots. Regularly, he took visits around the bridge nearby. A briefing from a pilot. A word from the Moff, or an ambassador. Wherever Kylo Ren went, someone was always nearby and ready to badger him. The damned Steadfast was so big that half his duties as Emperor was making sure everything was running smoothly on the ship.

But that was his own doing. And he supposed he was grateful. He wanted to be more of a hands-on leader than Snoke. Kylo had no interest in sitting on a throne all day and barking petty orders at servants. When he had a formal engagement or meeting, then sure, sometimes the throne room was most fitting. But unless another high-ranking ruler was coming to meet him, Kylo wanted to be seen and heard. Active.

He'd had a 'trooper radio for Gil before he'd even made it to the bridge. Kylo hadn't waited long before he found himself planted in front of the window, gazing at the nether, when his Knight approached from behind.

"Gil," Kylo clipped, turning his head over his shoulder, followed by the rest of his body.

The Emperor's Knight stood in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, at-ease but relaxed. His weight was evenly distributed between his feet but his knees were loose. All of the new Knights had an air of relaxation, of carelessness. Kylo didn't bother to beat it out of them. Life would do that on its own, in time.

"Master," his pupil responded, bowing his head. "You asked for me."

"I did," Kylo responded. "It's time for us to discuss your reassignment."

A beat. "My reassignment, sir?"

"Yes. As you know, the Princess is routinely guarded by 'troopers one day and by one of the Knights the next. Given the recent attack, I'd like to settle the matter of her security."

"Are the Sith Troopers not adequate?"

"They are not," Kylo responded. "Which is why I'm making you her personal guard."

Another beat. A slow inhale. "My...her what, sir?"

"Her bodyguard."

"I'm not sure Princess needs a bodyguard," Gil chuckled. "I think she can manage on her own."

"She could. But she won't. She's too important. You'll guard her day and night, escort her to wherever she wishes to be, and above all else, you'll ensure that her own recklessness won't end in her destruction."

"What about the ship, sir? The Night Buzzard?"

"Maxir will take your place as captain."

"Maxir?" Gil scoffed.

"I sense anger. Disapproval," Kylo hummed. "I wasn't giving you an option."

"But why me? Why not Rharo or Finor? I'm not the strongest out of the Knights."

"No, you're not," Kylo agreed. "But you're the smartest. My other apprentices still wield the Force like it's a hammer. I need her protected."

A rap at the door. Kylo straightened his back, turning to the secondary Moff in the doorway. Moff Oberon was sniveling and smug, and far too ambitious for his own good. Every interaction with him was a chore, and Kylo found himself narrowing his eyes from under his helmet.

Instantly, his head snapped back to Gil. "Go," he ordered, voice curt. "Your new assignment begins now."

Gil sighed, trying to hide his disappointment. "Princess isn't gonna like this."

Ignoring him, Kylo watched his Knight shove himself past Moff Oberon, silent until Gil had disappeared.

"Moff," the Emperor greeted curtly.

"Your Imperial Majesty." Oberon bowed his head, pale eyes flickering up towards Kylo. Smug bastard. Bold and stupid to maintain eye contact while bowing. And he was far too young to hold any power. But Kylo wouldn't engage in a power struggle with a lower-ranking official. That was beneath him. "A collector from Bothawui, sir, wishes to speak with you. Said it was a matter of grave urgency."

"Send him in," Kylo clipped.

With another bow, Oberon was gone, and a short, stout man was shuffling into the room in the Moff's place.

"Speak," Kylo ordered.

"Sir," the man said, bowing his head. "I-I'm a citizen of Bothawui. I was in the village the night you...the night of..."

Kylo narrowed his eyes. Clearly, this man was scared out of his wits. Likely terrified of the notion of Kylo realizing the man had escaped from the 'trooper's blaster fire. Terrified of the repercussions of having escaped. "Go on," Kylo said.

"I...well, I escaped into the woods, sir, and managed to reach the coast. I was alone. I wasn't followed," he clarified, urgently. Kylo narrowed his eyes. "There was a ship, sir, on the coast, and I saw it take off. I wanted to report it, sir, in case Your Majesty wasn't aware-"

"This ship," Kylo pressed, stepping forward, curling his fists. "You're saying you saw it take off after the attack?"

"Yes, sir. And I saw a man run inside. I also saw a woman on the ramp, waiting for him. I didn't get a good look at their faces, but..."

"But what?" Kylo snapped, feeling every muscle in his body clench. "Say it."

The man sighed heavily, breath rattling. "The woman on the ship. On her armor...she was bearing the mark of the Resistance." 


	13. Talk To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we have a Knights chapter, I'm going to go ahead and reveal the rest of the fancast now. Please welcome Elliot Knight as Maxir, Henry Golding as Kuna, and Robert Pattinson as Varlo.
> 
> Another solid outfit for today's chapter. It was inspired by Hass Idriss's spring 2020 Oblivion Collection's "Essence."
> 
> Slight slight slight TW today—not really but just in case—very brief discussions of non-consensual/drunk sex, though I do want to stress THERE IS NO NON-CON SEX in this chapter or planned for the rest of the fic.
> 
> Please enjoy this 8.8k+ words-long chapter. I fucking LOVE IT HERE!!!!

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━ 

Kylo was gone when you woke up. You shouldn't have expected anything else. 

Swallowing your disappointment, you ushered yourself out of bed, folding your arms over your bare chest in an attempt to keep warm. Your eyes fell on a ruffled pile of purple fabric thrown haphazardly in the corner. You scooped your dress off of the floor only to remember that Kylo had torn it all the way down the back. Cursing, you walked into his closet; if he was going to be pissed about you stealing his clothes, then he should have considered the repercussions of absolutely decimating your only means of covering up.

Walking into his closet felt somehow intimate, but you refused to feel guilty. And it was strange seeing how large the room was. His walk-in closet was the size of your refresher, which was hilarious, because he had about 50 carbon copies of the same five articles of clothing. You elected to steal a pair of joggers. They dwarfed you, but you cuffed the legs and cinched the waistband until it was snug. Then, you selected a black tee-shirt, yanking it over your head.

You thought about putting on your heels, and decided that would make you feel like too much of an idiot. So, barefoot and embarrassed, you exited Ren's quarters, taking one last look at the wild, ruffled sheets before you left.

Returning to your apartment to change and then hauling ass all the way back to the sick bay was a kriffing pain. You weren't sure if you were ever going to have that problem again. Meaning you weren't sure if Kylo was ever going to ask you back to his quarters for an overnight stay. But shuffling back home in his clothing wouldn't likely be a good option for the future.

But if you were being honest with yourself, you doubted that the events of last night would ever happen again. In fact, you were already bracing yourself for the disappointment of the Emperor telling you he was satisfied, and didn't need any more of you.

You walked yourself to the sick bay and tried to ignore the thoughts creeping into your brain. It didn't matter if Kylo Ren wanted you back. You were aboard the Steadfast for one reason and one reason only. Sleeping with him would only be a distraction. So you told yourself to focus on what was important--completing your mission.

That, and making sure that your irresponsibility from last night was taken care of.

As it turned out, there was a pill to make sure that the previous night didn't culminate in anything...permanent. And there was even a consistent regimens of pills to make sure such culmination wasn't possible in the future. The nurse sent you home with a hefty stock so you could take them every day for as long as you needed.

You blushed wildly as the nurse examined you. You wanted to take the pills and be done with it, but the markings all over your neck had her in a panic. It wasn't until she insisted on a full-body examination, and found the bruises all over your tits, that she finally got the picture. You knew you should have just told her what they were right off the bat, but the words couldn't seem to find their way out of your mouth. So you left the sick bay feeling thoroughly humiliated and pretty kriffing stupid, as well.

Once you reached the corridor, you realized you didn't know where to go. It was the first time you weren't flanked by 'troopers, but you had no sense of what you wanted to do, and no way to exercise your newfound freedom.

But it seemed that wouldn't be a problem for long. After only a handful of seconds had passed, a very familiar Knight was walking briskly down the corridor to meet you.

Gil.

Your heart leapt into your throat as instantly, you recalled that Kylo had deliberately stationed Gil outside of his quarters last night.

And he had heard everything.

There was no point in trying to fight the creeping flush that overtook your cheeks, splotching your neck. You swallowed heavily as he landed in front of you, feeling like you were about to choke on your own throat.

"Princess," he greeted. You could hear the smirk in his voice even if you couldn't see it on his face.

"Can I help you?"

"Slight change in protocol," he sighed, like he wasn't thrilled with the news, either.

"Oh?"

"Master Ren has instated me as your personal bodyguard."

"My bodyguard?" you echoed, yanking back your neck. "Wait...what? I thought the 'troopers were supposed to guard me."

"Master believes that this is the best way to ensure your safety."

You felt your brow twitch. 

_Oh_. 

Was Kylo Ren was trying to... _protect_ you? You couldn't hold back the smile that bloomed onto your face. In fact, you didn't even realize it was there until you heard Gil chuckle lowly.

Your gaze snapped back up to meet his, lips twitching downwards. "Is something funny?"

"Something's a little funny, now that you mention it, yeah."

Suddenly, you felt the beginnings of a nasty case of hives, and brushed past him, continuing down the hallway. You pumped your legs, almost hoping you could lose him. Though in the back of your mind, you knew that wasn't a possibility. 

Because Kylo Ren himself had ordered Gil to stay by your side.

"I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth about anything you think you might have heard last night-"

"What I _think_ I might have heard?"

Planting yourself in the middle of the hallway, you narrowed your eyes, testing out your bluff. Last night, he had been all the way on the other side of the entryway, after all. That was an _entire room_ between Kylo's bedroom and where Gil had been stationed. Maybe he _hadn't_ heard. "Yes," you tried.

"Okay," he chuckled. "So why are you in Master's clothing? Better yet—what've you got in your hand there?"

You held the birth control behind your back before glancing back at Gil. "Shut up," you snapped, before brushing past him and continuing down the hallway once again.

As expected, he was on your heels.

"Princess. Wait."

"No," you snapped. "And stop calling me that."

"What else am I supposed to call you?"

"Nothing. Don't call me anything. Don't even _talk_ to me."

You ignored him all the way back to your room, and you flushed furiously all the while. You knew it wasn't right to be lashing out at him, but you were thoroughly humiliated. Why couldn't what happened between you and the Emperor stay between you and the Emperor? Why did Kylo have to be surrounded by minions?

Not to mention annoying apprentices who evidently knew all of his private affairs.

You didn't even bother informing Gil that you weren't feeling well thanks to the emergency contraceptive. Instead, you took your cramps in stride and settled in for a nap, leaving him at his post in the corridor without a word.

If he was going to make fun of you for sleeping with the Emperor, then you hoped he'd enjoy his new job of standing in the hallway all day.

And you really did stay in there all day. Even by late afternoon, when you were feeling better, you stayed inside just to spite him. Just so he wouldn't have anything to do. You didn't have much to do, so you put on some music. You tried to read, but the selection of books provided by the Order were just about as boring as you'd expected them to be. But you knew you only needed to hold out until dinner.

At long last, and after several painfully boring hours, there was a rapping on your door. You knew that would be your meal. You hadn't taken lunch since you'd been asleep, and you were absolutely starving. Practically flying towards the blast door and pressing the activator, you were stunned with the sight you were met with.

Gil. Holding a dinner tray. And it was filled to the brim with expensive-looking food.

"A peace offering," were his only words.

Stunned, you looked from the assortment of fruit, to the flatcakes, and then, back to Gil. "You know they bring me my meals anyway, right?"

"Yeah. But they prepared all the fruit and desserts just for you," he said eagerly. "I made a stormtrooper go tell the kitchens to throw in a little extra. It would have gone to waste anyway."

You stared back at the tray. It was definitely a step up from what you usually got. While the Steadfast had plenty of resources, the people onboard ate like the boring, stuffy Final Order minions they all were. Even the Emperor.

Truthfully, you were touched at his thoughtfulness. And beyond that, you were impressed that a mere apprentice was able to pull so many strings in the kitchens.

Sighing, you stepped out of the doorway, gesturing to your tiny kitchenette.

He furrowed his brow, standing there with the tray, silent.

"Well, I'm not going to eat it all by myself," you told him.

Gil hesitated, but after a few more moments of silence, he exhaled, cautiously stepping into your room.

You sat down at one of the two kitchen chairs. Gil slowly lowered himself into the other after placing the tray onto the table. And you realized how strange he looked. In such a domestic environment, something so simple and mundane as your modest apartment, he sat there in full gear, looking like a soldier.

You tore off a bite of flatcake and threw it into your mouth, chewing gratefully. You hadn't eaten all day, and hadn't even realized how hungry you were. After you swallowed, you lifted your eyes to look a Gil. He hadn't moved a muscle.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm not really hungry."

You sighed, folding your arms over the table, leaning in to give him a heavy stare. "Remember when I told you I'm tired of having conversations with people I can't see?"

Gil was rigid. But then, he exhaled, and the tension seemed to gradually seep from his body. Slowly, he raised his hands to find the release buttons on either side of his helmet. With gloved fingers, he pressed them, lifting the mask off his head.

Your breath kicked in your throat as you watched his dark curls gently flop down to frame his face. Everywhere you looked were sharp, attractive angles.

And then Gil's eyes met yours.

You were stunned to see that he was _young_. And not in the way Kylo was young—as in simply not old—but _young_. Maybe even younger than _you_. Still old enough to be a man, though not by much.

Pale. Severe. Dark hair and a strong, drawn brow.

He didn't look all that unlike a younger Kylo Ren.

Gil said nothing. He just stared at you, his features drawn with severity, lips slightly pursed, brows barely furrowed, eyes deep-set as they stared into your soul.

After far too long had passed, you realized you hadn't said a word, either.

"Every time someone takes off their mask, I realize they don't look a thing like how I thought they would," you whispered.

"Disappointed?" He breathed lowly.

Suddenly, something in the back of your head was telling you not to answer that question. You swallowed thickly, centering your gaze back onto your food as you picked up a strip of fish.

"Earlier in the hallway," you told him between bites. "I didn't mean to be difficult."

"I shouldn't have pressed you," he offered, shaking his head. "I just thought you had a sense of humor."

Detecting some mischievous in his voice but not a hint of malice, your gaze snapped back up to his. And finally, you were smiling. "I _do so_ have a sense of humor!"

At last, Gil cracked a small grin, leaning forward on his elbows. "Could have fooled me."

"Maybe you're just a bit of an ass."

"Maybe," he chuckled.

You grinned, bringing a small fruit up to your lips. You didn't recognize it, and couldn't have said what planet it had come from. But it was damned good. As far as you were concerned, Gil was forgiven.

"I promise I'm not going to stay in my room all the time. I won't make you stand out in the corridor 24/7."

"I'm sure you'll drag me along into all sorts of trouble."

"Probably," you agreed. "That's better than being bored, isn't it? I can't imagine you want to be on bodyguard duty for your master's...whatever I am."

"For the Empress," he corrected you softly.

Your stomach clenched. "I'm not the Empress yet."

"It's still an honor."

You sighed, settling back in your chair. "You don't have to lie to me. I know how much you loved being a pilot."

Gil chewed the inside of his cheek, clasping his hands together and setting his gaze downwards.

"You're not going to offend me. Please. I'd love to hear about it. I don't have a single friend on this ship, other than that stupid fucking droid," you said, jerking your head towards the oversized metallic rabbit.

"It _is_ an honor," he said, raising his gaze to meet your eyes again. "I don't want you to think I'm disappointed to be here. You're one of the most important people on this ship. I'll give my life to protect you, if that's what it comes to. Don't doubt that for a moment."

All over again, you found yourself unable to breathe, or to move. Gil's eyes were pale and captivating. It was all too easy to get lost in them.

You cleared your throat. "Well...I appreciate that. Still. It must be hard to be away from the other Knights."

Gil sighed, nodding slowly. "When I found the Knights, I had no one," he explained. "No one. The Knights, Master Ren, they put me back together again. They built me back stronger than I'd been before. We're a team. Closely bonded. Everything we do, we do as one. So, it is a bit of an adjustment, being away from them like this."

You sighed, and pushed yourself off of your seat, slapping your hands on your thighs. "Well, that settles it then."

He knit his brow, staring up at you. "Settles what?"

"Let's go see your friends." You walked over to the closet, pulling out a dress and laying it out on the bed. It was a soft, shimmery blue. Perfectly suitable for an evening out with Gil.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, standing quickly.

"And why's that?"

"Because, they..." he sighed. "I don't know if the barracks is a good place for a princess," he explained.

Your eyes shone. "You know that only makes me want to go all the more."

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

When you stepped into the hallway, Gil was waiting, his helmet back on his head, hands clasped behind his back. He turned when he sensed your presence, finding you in an actual Hapan gown instead of the Emperor's pajamas. After a very strange couple of days, you were finally starting to feel like yourself again.

He gave you a once-over before coming to stand before you.

You smoothed down your skirt, which was made of an elegant, draping blue tulle. The bodice, however, was skin-tight and shimmery, the color of dusty moonlight. Small groves of metal sat at your waist, but they were more for decoration than for function. Thin chords secured the bodice around your neck.

Gil was silent for a minute, but you knew him well enough to at least know that he was rarely silent for long. He asked if you were ready, and you nodded, following him down the corridor.

The barracks was a far walk away. The Knights had their own private quarters a few floors beneath you. If you hadn't been following Gil specifically for the purpose of visiting the barracks, you were pretty sure you never would have found it on your own. Gil's living quarters were down closer to the 'trooper quarters, but not quite completely far enough to be included in them. They were servants to Ren, but they were still his apprentices, and ranked above the majority of the rabble aboard the Steadfast.

Like most of the other parts of the Steadfast, the corridor Gil led you down was dark and colder—even colder than upstairs. Only when Gil led you through the blast doors of the Knights' barracks did you finally begin to feel out of place.

You would have recognized Rharo's thunderous voice from a mile away. "-never seen anything like that Twi'lek girl on Coruscant before. Screamed so loud you thought she'd never have even _touched_ a man before."

"That, or she was faking it," chimed in a voice you didn't recognize.

A pause. And then Rharo, roaring with laughter. You rounded the corner just in time to see his head thrown back, and his fist banging his tankard onto the metal table he sat at.

His hair was long. Dark. Skin sun-kissed and bronze. He was sporting a beard, and one of his eyebrows had a scar shooting down the middle. About what you'd expect a guy his size to look like.

Looking at the rest of them, though, it was difficult to try and connect faces to uniforms. You'd only formally met Gil and Rharo. But it was strange—you tried to wrap your mind around the fact that you were staring at the Knights of Kriffing Ren as they all sat around a table, sharing stories and drinking alcohol and laughing.

These were the same men who would tear up the galaxy at Kylo's command.

Everyone was looking at you, except Rharo, who was still howling. Once he realized that the Knights were no longer laughing at his story, he cleared his throat. Then he turned around, and saw you.

One of his brows lifted. And he smiled. "Well, _look who it is_." Then, to Gil, "she allowed to be here?"

"I can be wherever I want," you murmured.

"Well, that's true, I guess," Rharo said, cracking a wider grin. "You are the Empress-to-be, after all. Maxir, get her a drink."

"Get it yourself," responded who you could only assume was Maxir. He was grinning, leaning back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

Gil stood by your side, unmoving, only for a moment longer. Then, he strode towards the table, lifting his helmet off and setting it on the ground near his feet. "Take a seat," he told you, gesturing next to him.

You cleared your throat but followed him, lowering in the open space just off of his left, in between him and the only Knight who still wore a helmet.

"Where's Finor?" Gil asked.

"Training with Master Ren."

"Unlucky bastard," Gil sighed.

You turned to the Knight next to you, the only one still masked, and quirked a brow. "You ever take that thing off?"

"Varlo prefers to keep things professional at all times." Suddenly, one of them was leaning forward, leaning towards you from across the table. You were almost too distracted by the whiteness of his smile to realize he'd outstretched a hand to you. "Kuna," he murmured with a grin.

You took his hand, and your eyes went wide when he brought your knuckles to his lips. "An honor, Your Highness."

"I think that's enough of that," Rharo smacked Kuna's chest, which sent Maxir roaring with laughter. You sensed Gil chuckle at your side, but couldn't help but notice he seemed a little more closed-off than usual.

You let the boys have their fun, and turned to your guard. "You alright?" you asked.

He nodded stiffly, before turning his head and meeting your eyes. "Just feels like I'm doing something wrong for some reason. I know I'm not, though. Master Ren told me to take you wherever you wished to be. I don't know. For some reason, this just feels a little..."

"Off-limits?" Varlo finished.

"Oh, come now," chuckled Rharo. "Let her have her fun." And then, leaning across the table, head turning to each of the Knights, "someone better go get her a fucking drink before I lose my mind."

Resolved, Gil stood, walking towards the kitchenette.

" _I want to see this girl let loose!_ " Rharo roared.

You couldn't help but laugh, though you suddenly felt sheepish. If there was anything you'd learned from being a female diplomat, it was that navigating a room full of men—especially as the sole woman—was one of the most needlessly difficult things a person like you could do. You wanted to have fun, but you were on edge. Many times in your past, the men surrounding you wanted you to fail, whether they were from competing planets or just believed that women shouldn't rule.

And you hadn't yet decided if you thought the Knights had any intention to make your life more difficult.

Gil settled back in next to you, sliding over a metal tankard. You brought it to your lips, and took a hefty swig.

Satisfied, Rharo hummed with laughter when you didn't sputter or choke on the liquor. "See that, boys? I _knew_ she was a fun one."

"And just how does a princess have a taste for Spiran caf?"

"They used to have it at the galas and balls back home."

"I didn't know princesses were allowed to drink at their own balls."

"We're advised against it," you said, grinning. "But I wanted to have a good time. I used to sneak a bottle out for all my friends in the guard. We'd sneak into the courtyards and return to the ballroom barely able to walk."

"I knew she was a rebel." Rharo beamed. "I could sense it."

"But we already knew that," Maxir chimed in. "Master told us you were a handful."

"How flattering."

"Don't listen," Kuna told you. "Master Ren talks a big game about your attitude. But trust me." He winked. "He likes it. And you're much prettier than the last one, I'll give you that."

"The last one?" your interest piqued. "There was another Empress before me?"

Suddenly, the Knights were exchanging looks with each other, dead silent. Only then did Rharo lean across the table, hands folded gently, as if he was about to deliver sensitive information. "We're referring more to, aghhh... _paid companionship,_ Your Highness."

Your stomach dropped, and slowly, your spine straightened as you realized what he meant. " _Oh_."

"Don't let them bother you," Gil murmured in your ear.

"Oh my fucking Gods," you breathed, shoving a strand of hair behind your ear. "Do you think, um, that the paid companion would be onboard the Steadfast...now?"

"Oh, gods no, he never took them onboard," Kuna said.

" _Them._ Plural. Mmm." You nodded, staring off into the center of the table as if it held all the answers. The fact that he never brought any of them onboard made you feel a bit better. But somehow, your spirits still felt crushed. Because you were jealous.

Apparently, Rharo could sense your sudden discomfort. "That was before you were here, of course."

You inhaled shakily. Suddenly, you found yourself wondering what the hell you were thinking—waltzing into the barracks like you were one of the boys. You felt entirely in over your head.

"I'd rather not talk about Kylo Ren," you said.

Rharo shrugged. "You're the boss."

"What?" you balked.

He met your gaze, tankard half-lifted to his lips. "You're Master Ren's woman. We serve you almost as much as we serve him."

Bewildered, you shook your head. "I'm not...I'm not his woman."

"Tell that to him while you're walking down the aisle," Kuna snickered.

You settled back in your chair, feeling stunned, as it dawned on you that the Knights of Ren were meant to protect you.

To _serve_ you.

You couldn't wrap your mind around it. And you knew that Kylo would always pull rank, would always have seniority over you. The things you'd heard about the Knights were bleak. You'd heard they were sadistic and wild. You imagined that Kylo probably let them toy with their prisoners like a cat toying with its meal. But more and more, you were slowly starting to feel less like a prisoner, and more like...

Like an _Empress_.

With your newfound assurance, you cleared your throat, straightening your spine, and reaching for your tankard. "So what do you guys do for fun?"

Rharo shrugged. "You're pretty much looking at it."

"We have nights off from training and the rest of our other duties very rarely. If we're in port, we'll find a cantina. That's become rarer and rarer these days. Master is eager to arrive on Naboo."

"Once we're there, things will get busy again. Master accepted Naboo's surrender, but there is still some concern for rebellions and such," Maxir explained.

"I don't think it's likely," Rharo roared, slamming down his empty tankard and shuffling off into the kitchen for a refill. "No one would dare defy Master Ren."

"I don't think that's realistic," Maxir responded.

"Nor do I," Gil offered, and then, turning to you, "But don't worry. Security will be vigilant when we arrive."

"I'm not worried," you told him, looking at the rest of the Knights. "I actually think we'll all be in pretty good hands."

And for the first time in weeks—a year, really—you finally felt yourself relax.

You talked for hours. It was hard to stop when you were actually having fun. For so long, you'd been cooped up in your room. Anxiously thinking about the Emperor. Feeling incredibly lonely when he decided to ignore you.

But you couldn't explain it—with the Knights, you actually felt at ease. Sure, Kylo had probably ordered them to treat you well, but it was such a relief to have a pleasant, leisurely conversation with people. To have a break from politics. To have a break from the crippling pressures that came with being an assassin.

But the thing about letting loose and drinking to keep up with five of the six large, imposing, strong Knights of Ren was that the alcohol was bound to hit you all at once—in full force.

By the time two hours had passed, you were in as bad a state as Rharo. Everyone else seemed ready for bed, but you were unable to read the room, leaning across the table and cackling like a madwoman as he regaled you on his old life as a smuggler. And from what it sounded like, it was a good thing that he'd found other means of employment. Because all his stories ended in _complete_ disaster.

"Alright," Gil murmured. "I think you've had enough. Time for bed." He reached for your arms, and simultaneously, Maxir and Varlo were trying to get Rharo onto two feet as well.

"Why?" you argued. "It's not even that late!"

"Stop acting like a child, and maybe you won't have a bedtime."

Fruitlessly, you swatted at his arms, but it was impossible to get rid of his grip. Gil may not have been shaped like Rharo, but he was fast, lithe, and surprisingly strong. With the upmost control, he lifted you out of your seat and all but carried you out of the barracks.

Without even giving you a chance to say goodbye to the others—who were too busy dealing with Rharo to even notice you were leaving—Gil struggled with your cumbersome body; it wasn't easy to drag you out of the barracks when you were so insistent on not being helped. But the truth was, you could barely even stand without him holding you upright. You didn't even know why you were putting up a fight, but you knew one thing: seeing Gil irritated and flushed was really, really fun.

And for some reason, he actually looked pissed. And if you were being honest, that was kind of fun, too.

You realized you barely had a grasp on the concept of time, because suddenly you were in the turbolift, and what felt like seconds later, you'd made it fifteen minutes down the corridor near the apartments.

You stumbled, and felt Gil's arm tighten around your waist. You giggled. As your feet slipped out from underneath you, he yanked you against his chest.

Your fingers traced his chin. "You forgot your helmet."

Grunting, he wrestled your hand away from his face. "I'll get it later," he insisted, throwing his arm around your ribcage in an attempt to keep you upright. "Stop trying to touch me."

"Why? I'm just excited to see someone without a kriffing helmet. All day every day, I have to look at people in masks, except for General Pryde, but why would I want to look at _his_ face?"

"Gods, Kylo was right about you."

"What did he say?" you asked, your interest in the conversation suddenly skyrocketing. Your eyes went wider than the moons and your head snapped towards his direction. You slipped out from under him, legs nearly giving way. He tightened his grip around your middle once again, hoisting you to your feet with a grunt.

"That you're no kriffing picnic," Gil responded.

Weirdly, you didn't take that as an insult, and found yourself grinning. You didn't want to change the subject; you were having so much fun messing with him. But suddenly, you realized you weren't even on your part of the ship anymore. Had he taken a wrong turn?

"Gil," you giggled. "Where are you taking me? My room's in...uh...back the other way, I think."

"Yeah. I'm taking you to Master Ren."

Suddenly, you almost felt sober. " _What_? Since _when_?"

He grunted under your slack weight. "A 'trooper radioed me while you were asleep this afternoon. My instructions were to deliver you to his quarters this evening."

"Gil!" You screeched, smacking his arm. "You should have told me that before you let me get _fucking drunk_!"

"I know I should have!" he hissed. "But I thought you were _fine_! It all happened so fast. Gods above, he's gonna kill me."

In an instant, all the joy and levity you'd felt was replaced with a staggering onset of panic. Because suddenly, you felt sober enough to realize exactly where you were.

Not twenty feet from Kylo's quarters.

"I can't believe you!" you cried, as Gil continued in his effort to drag you down the hallway. "You let me get plastered knowing the Emperor wanted to see me?"

"I can't believe you got that drunk in the first place!"

"Aren't you the one supposed to be keeping me in line?"

"I'm your bodyguard, not your babysitter!"

"You could have at least _told me!_ " you screeched.

"Well obviously, _I forgot_!" he growled.

You yanked yourself away from him long enough to bury your face in your hands, humiliated. But he wrenched your arms away as you began to stumble, grasping you tightly against his chest.

Peeking open an eye, you saw the blast door that led to Kylo's apartments, not feet away from you.

How could you have let yourself fuck up this badly?

"One day," Gil ranted. "I've been your bodyguard for _one day_ , and now I'm about to lose my job." 

"This is _your fault_!" you stammered, tears rising to your eyes for no good reason. "If you had just _told me_ -"

"Never in my life have I seen someone get fucked up so quickly," he hissed. "One second, you were perfectly fine, and the next, you and Rharo were singing cantina songs at the top of your lungs and-"

The blast door opened before you and Gil could even stop arguing. And neither of you had touched it.

Suddenly, you were plunged into the shadow of Kylo Ren.

He'd appeared without a word and somehow, he already looked angry—staring down at Gil, who had his arms clenched around your waist, and _you_ , completely and utterly incoherent.

"Fuck," you breathed, your heart sinking down into your stomach.

And then, everything went completely silent.

If you weren't flushed from the alcohol, then you were definitely flushed now. Kylo didn't have his helmet on, for once, and he actually looked... _disheveled_. Right off the bat, you felt a sudden onset of panic; Kylo in a bad mood was never a good thing for anyone else. But at the same time, he looked wildly delicious. His hair was somewhat more frumpled than usual, his jaw clenched so hard that the muscles around his mouth were flexing, and his lips were pursed. And his brow was drawn forward in frustration. He looked angry, but at the same time, you had to admit that it was almost _cute_.

At least when you were drunk, it was cute. If you were sober, you'd probably be quaking in your boots.

There was a heavy pause as Kylo looked from you to Gil and back again. You felt Gil tense against you, but he couldn't let you go. But when it felt like the tension was about to snap all three of you in half, Gil finally spoke.

"Here's the Princess," he said quickly, clearing his throat.

Kylo's lip curled, and suddenly, he was seizing your forearm. You gasped as he yanked you out of Gil's embrace and into his, instead. Your palms landed flat against his chest, and he didn't even budge from the impact. His tunic was rough beneath your fingertips. You could feel his breath rising and falling beneath it.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Kylo snapped.

Gil stammered, and you snuggled against Kylo's chest. Warm.

"I-I don't know what happened. She'd had a few drinks, and she was fine for _all_ of them. Her body must have absorbed everything all at once. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen."

"No," Kylo responded darkly. " _You shouldn't have._ "

"Relax," you mumbled, your cheek smooshed against Kylo's chest, eyes contentedly closed. "He's my bodyguard, not my babysitter. Said it himself."

"If you're going to prove yourself to be a child, then he'll have to be both," Kylo snarled, yanking you through the doorway, leaving Gil in the corridor.

You began to stumble after him, but suddenly, something was drawing the both of you back.

Gil's voice.

"Master," he called, urgent.

You felt Kylo stop in his tracks, and you slammed into his body. He gripped your waist as you stumbled.

"Is there a problem, my young apprentice?" Kylo asked, voice brimming with impatience.

"I...she's...she can barely walk, Master. I can take her back to her room."

Still pressed against Kylo's chest, you couldn't see his face. But you could feel him darken underneath your body.

"I hope you're not suggesting what I _think_ you're suggesting."

"N-no, Sir," Gil said quickly. "I just-"

"She's completely delirious. Thanks to _you_ ," Kylo hissed. "She'll be safer with me than she will be anywhere else. I'll make sure she's not sick in her sleep," he snapped. "You'll report here first thing in the morning. We'll discuss your colossal irresponsibility then."

Something told you that you wouldn't want to be present at that meeting. But before you could ponder the thought for another moment, Kylo was dragging you into his apartments, and the blast door was closing behind you.

Gil was gone. There was nothing but you, and the sound of Kylo's heartbeat against your ear.

"Slow down," you murmured, as he dragged you through the entryway.

He grunted in frustration. Then, your feet were no longer on the ground.

You gasped as he lifted you ungently in his arms, and you jostled within his hold, staggered at the realization of what was happening.

Kylo Ren was _carrying_ you.

He held you in his arms like a child as he crossed the threshold into the bedroom.

Kylo seated you onto the bed, your legs dangling over the edge. Lifting your face to look at him, you saw that he still looked frustrated and pressed with urgency. He stared down at you like you'd only added to his problems. Because obviously, you had.

"Gil shouldn't have let this happen," he told you sternly. "But you should be smart enough to know your limits."

"I thought I did," you mumbled.

"You were irresponsible tonight," he growled, shoving away from you and disappearing into his closet.

"I was just trying to have some fun!" you called after him, growing irritated. "You have to realize that where I come from, we actually like to _live a little bit_ every once in a while! I haven't gotten to be myself or let loose a little since I got here! I just wanted _one night_ to do something different! Is that so much to ask?"

Kylo emerged from the closet, wearing sweatpants and nothing else. He held a black tee-shirt in his hand, which he promptly threw in your direction.

You sputtered as it hit you in the face, yanking it clear from your vision.

"No," he responded, teeth clenched. "But there's a difference between having fun and completely losing control."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't know fun if it hit you over the back of the head," you spat. "What the fuck is this?"

"Something to sleep in."

"I don't need it. And I can sleep in my own room."

"No. You can't. _Clearly_ you need a babysitter."

"I thought that was Gil's job."

"Only when I'm not available," he responded.

That rendered you silent. 

You wanted to argue. Because you knew that he had no right to make you sleep in his room. But the truth was, you didn't want to leave. So you held his gaze, brows twitching together. Then, you swallowed down your surprise, and slowly lifted yourself to your feet.

Tossing the shirt on the bed, you moved your fingers to work the tie at the back of your neck. But as Gil said, you could barely stand on two feet. You were a lost fucking cause.

Kylo exhaled hotly. And then- "give it here," he growled, gripping your shoulders and roughly spinning you around so your back was faced towards him. You reeled with dizziness, but he gripped you hard enough to keep you upright.

The tie came free. And suddenly, you were out of jokes, and quips, and cute little remarks. Slowly, Kylo pushed the dress down your back, down your ribcage, down your hips—until the whole thing lied in a pool around your ankles.

And both of you were silent.

You couldn't breathe. And you didn't dare turn around. Suddenly, you just knew that you were laid bare—literally—before him. And he wasn't saying a word.

So you turned around.

You looked up at him. You were cold. You wanted clothes, but somehow, you wanted his gaze more. Your eyes were wide, brows lifted. You didn't know what you wanted from him. Or you didn't want to admit it. So you just stared.

Kylo's eyes dropped down to your bare chest for the briefest of seconds before they fell on your eyes once again. His jaw was clenched. The air was slow as it kicked out of his lungs.

His eyes were wide, too. Dark. You'd yet to understand what it was about them that could swallow you whole. You didn't know. But you knew that they were the most beautiful things that had ever graced your vision.

Your breath gave out altogether when he took a step forward, closing the space between your bodies entirely. His middle pressed against your chest. You felt woozy-

-Until you realized that he'd only stepped close enough to bring himself in reach of the tee-shirt, resting on the edge of the bed just behind you.

He straightened himself up when he took the shirt in hand, then took a step back, putting some space between your bodies once again. Finally, you were able to manage a shaky inhale.

"Arms up," he said shortly.

"I can do it myself," you slurred.

Kylo said nothing. But his gaze snapped towards yours so quickly and so intensely, eyes full of warning, that you complied. You raised your arms, not unlike a kriffing toddler, and Kylo guided the shirt over your head before pulling it down your torso as you worked your arms through the holes.

At least you felt a little warmer.

He took a step back.

You took a step forward.

"Don't," he murmured.

"Why?"

"You know why. Get in bed."

Your fingers found him anyway, gently trailing where his sweatpants met his hips.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, promptly removing it from his vicinity.

"Don't make you carry you again."

Your gaze flickered to the floor. In all honestly, you wouldn't have complained if he did, but you got the message all the same. You shuffled to the side of the bed you'd slept in last time. Kylo pulled back the covers, ushering you under the sheets as your struggled to climb into them. Then, he walked to the other side, placing himself next to you but keeping a wide berth between your bodies nonetheless. Just like last night.

And just as he'd done the time before, he outstretched a hand, lazily pointing his index and middle fingers towards the wall. The lights dimmed until there was nothing.

He didn't move. Didn't tell you goodnight. Didn't give you the briefest of touches. Suddenly, he was just quiet.

And that wasn't good enough for you.

"Why are you in a bad mood? Moreso than usual, I mean."

"Quiet."

"Did you have a bad day?"

Kylo exhaled, but he said nothing. Didn't deny it. You supposed that was your answer right there.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I want you to shut up and go to sleep."

Your heart clenched. But not only with sadness--there was a hint of defensiveness, too. 

"Why are you even making me stay if you're just going to pretend I'm not here?"

Apparently, he preferred to answer your original question than tell you why he wanted you there. Kylo turned over in bed, facing you, expression full of resentment, but with resolve, too. Exhaling hotly, he pursed his lips in frustration, though you could barely make him out in the darkness.

"I was told today that the Resistance may have been behind the attack on Bothawui."

Your heart sank. And you felt sick.

_Evander._

"Wh-what? What do you mean? That's not possible. All the witnesses are dead."

"Not all of them," he murmured.

"I...what are you going to do?"

Kylo held your gaze for a moment longer, wordlessly. Apparently, that was a question he didn't want to answer either. He turned onto his back, electing to stare at the ceiling rather than your eyes. "I don't know."

"Aren't you going to tell your officials?"

"I don't know," he repeated, more tensely this time.

"Why not? Wouldn't you want them to know?" you blurted, desperate for answers. Desperate to know what he was planning. Desperate to know if Evander, Leia, Finn, if everyone you'd even known and loved was in danger.

"Quiet," he said again. "You should get some sleep."

Sighing, you cursed him internally. He really was stubborn. Stubborn, impossible to read, and even more impossible to talk to. You flipped back onto your side, your mind already reeling with all the ways you could get him off the Resistance's trail. But in your current state, you were useless in terms of strategy.

Kylo was right. You needed to sleep.

"I don't know why you're making me stay here if you're mad at me."

There was silence for a moment. And then— "I'm not mad at you."

You scoffed. "That's a first."

"I'm not," he said again.

"I know you're pissed at me about tonight. I know you're pissed at Gil. Don't be too hard on him. I haven't had that much fun since I've been here. I don't even think I've had that much fun in years, even."

He hummed indifferently, sounding irritated. You didn't even notice.

You just snuggled deeper within the blankets, pulling them up to your chin. You didn't dare say it out loud—Kylo would have laughed at you.

But you _almost_ felt, for the first time since you'd boarded the Steadfast, that you'd made friends. 

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

You awoke to the sound of heavy breathing. The struggling gasps of a person on the verge of tears. At first, you thought you'd dreamt it, and it had startled you awake.

But as your eyes began to adjust to the darkness, you realized the sound was still there. Sitting up in bed, you turned.

Kylo.

You could barely make him out in the darkness. But you could feel his body twitching, spasming in his sleep. At first, it just sounded like he was having a bad dream—the gasps and the murmuring weren't too alarming.

But the longer you sat there, the more you realized that he was getting louder.

His body jolted. He cried out. A name, maybe. Something you didn't recognize. He gasped again, inhaling on a sharp stream of air, gulping it down and then sputtering as if it was choking him. Instinctively, your hands flew to his chest as you knelt beside him on top of the mattress.

"Kylo," you breathed, pressing your palms against him, hoping he could feel your warmth, and it would draw him back to life.

When that didn't work—"Kylo!" Louder this time. Your hands moved to his face. As your eyes continued to adjust, you could begin to make out his features. They were twisted in confusion or fear or pain. Maybe all of the above.

Thumbs stroking his cheekbones, you gave him a light shake. " _Kylo_!"

His eyes flew open. His entire body jolted, as if he'd been zapped with a stream of electricity. For a split-second, he looked around the room, propping himself up on his elbows, as if he didn't recognize his surroundings.

The moment he found your eyes was the same moment his body seemed to relax.

You saw a flash of recognition in his eyes. Your body relaxed, too, and you exhaled.

His hand found your wrist. But this time, he didn't pull it away. He just held it there as he swallowed you with his eyes, body trembling as he caught his breath.

Slowly, the air pushing from his lungs began to even out. He inhaled greedily, sating his heaving body. After a few silent, tense moments, he seemed to relax.

And never once did your eyes leave his.

Because you'd never seen him like this. You barely even _recognized_ him. He held your gaze with a sense of urgency, of desperation. As if your eyes were the things that were feeding his lungs again. As if your face was quieting his mind. Your heart kicked in your chest, and you did your best to ignore it. To remember your mission. To remember what you'd have to do to him when the time came.

He swallowed heavily, exhaling a steady stream of air through his nose. His frame relaxed against the mattress. His eyes drooped with sleepiness. But then the person who'd been there before was gone, and the Kylo you recognized was seeping back into his features. His brow knit. Lips slightly pursed. He pulled away your hand.

He didn't want your help. So you just crawled back under the blankets, turning away from him, pretending to sleep, breathing out your disappointment on a long exhale.

It was suspiciously quiet for a long time. But then, out of the darkness—his voice.

"Say nothing," he murmured, so suddenly it made you jolt. "Tell no one."

Your breath rattled as you exhaled. "Okay," you whispered. "Does that...happen a lot?"

"What did I say?" he snapped.

"Sorry," you breathed. "I'll go to sleep."

"No," he grunted quickly. "Talk."

"Talk? About what?" Your voice was barely audible. "You're always telling me to shut up."

"And now I want you to talk to me. So talk."

Involuntarily, your brow knit. And it dawned on you that Kylo wanted you to distract him. 

From whatever in hell had just happened.

"Okay? I um-I don't...I'm...excited to go to Naboo. I'm tired of it being dark all the time. My eyes aren't built for space."

Again, he inhaled. His breath was jagged. "You never left Hapes. Before now, I mean."

There was a heavy pause. "No," you confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

"Not even to another planet in your system? I was under the impression that the Queen Mother controls all planets in the Hapes Cluster."

"She does. But my mother never allowed us to leave the Capitol. She never thought there was any need." you cleared your throat, wincing uneasily.

Another silence. And then, "Do you miss her?"

You knit your brow, stunned. You weren't sure if this was a conversation or an interrogation. But there was almost a softness in his voice. And it felt unusual. But thinking back to your mother, the uneasiness mounting in your body and mind only grew.

The rustling of sheets. You felt Kylo turn to look at you without even having to see it. You kept your eyes pinned to the ceiling. You couldn't bear to face him. "You don't want to answer," he hummed. "You're afraid of what I'll think of you."

It was so silent that you could hear yourself swallow, throat tense and try.

"You can tell me," he murmured. "Don't be afraid."

Your brow twitched, muscles clenching. You focused on your breath, trying to stay calm. "I don't," you whispered. You'd never admitted it out loud before. But now that the truth hung open in the air, your lungs felt a little lighter. "She views me as Chume'da, and nothing else. I always thought that she considered Hapes to be her true child." You added a small laugh for levity, but it was devoid of humor, despite your attempts. For once, you didn't want to keep talking. You settled against the mattress, hoping he'd get the message and let you sleep. You closed your eyes. "It's okay, though. I don't really care." You hoped that would be the end of it.

"You do," he hummed.

Your eyes snapped open.

"You never felt your mother's love. She expected far too much of you at an early age."

"Don't do that," you hissed. "Stop flipping through my mind like a book."

"I don't have to look into your mind," he mumbled. "It's written all over you. You radiate with the sadness of a neglected child. Just like you radiate with the independence of one."

You said nothing. You couldn't if you tried.

"It's what's made you strong. Stronger than her. It would have made you a better queen than your mother."

"Well, I'm not going to be queen."

"No. You'll be the Empress."

You inhaled a steady stream of air through your nose, listening intently to every pause, desperate to reach out and touch his mind. To know what he would say next. To know that he thought of you.

"You'll know power that your mother will never possess. If that's any consolation."

You felt your brow furrow. And then, without realizing the words were leaving your mouth: "It is." 

Kylo was silent. You were silent. He shifted next to you. And suddenly it dawned on you that you were sleeping in his bed with him, and you hadn't even had sex. Why on earth he wanted you there was beyond you.

"Do you feel better," he breathed suddenly.

"I think so. Do you?"

"Don't."

You sighed. You knew you could help him, if he'd only let you. Maybe it was better that he wouldn't. "Fine." you said, turning over onto your side, away from him. And for whatever reason, Kylo Ren let you sleep next to him, silent, without so much as a touch.

After a while, you heard the slight rustling of sheets, the movement of bedsprings. And you knew that he'd finally relaxed.

You wouldn't have been able to sleep if you'd tried; your mind was too busy reeling at what you'd seen. Not after what he'd said.

But when you finally began to doze off, you could have sworn that Kylo had brought himself closer to you. He wasn't hugging his side of the bed anymore.

Because you could feel his breath whispering against the back of your neck as you fell asleep. 


	14. All a Part of the Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s dress: Ianassa by Carol Hannah and it’s STUNNING and SOOO Naboo.
> 
> TW: So let’s talk about sex once again. This chapter will feature consensual sex with some highly toxic and dangerous BDSM acts (specifically, slapping) that occur without a safeword or discussions beforehand. No, this should not be practiced in real life, yes, it's bad, so please be fully aware that this is fiction and fantasy and comes from my deranged mind. Please don’t read if you are sensitive to that.
> 
> Also, this chapter is like 10,000 words. That's it, that's the chapter note but what the fuck is wrong with me

Friends. _Friends_.

You’d been stupid enough to believe that you’d made _friends_ aboard the Steadfast? Friends who were employed by the Final Order? Friends who you knew full well would be executed by the Resistance?

You’d been avoiding Kylo for the handful of days following your night out with Gil and the Knights. It was easy to slip out from under him; the following morning, he’d once again been gone by the time you woke up. You thought about avoiding Gil, too, but that was much more difficult. He was your bodyguard, after all, and followed you everywhere you went. Besides, outright ignoring him would have appeared suspicious.

But you knew there could be no more friendship. You knew you had to keep your head screwed on straight.

You told yourself that you only felt so close with the Knights at the barracks because you’d been drunk. And you tried tirelessly to convince yourself you didn’t like them when you were sober.

Because you knew how this would end. If the Resistance won, then everyone you were coming to know aboard the Steadfast would be dead.

And if the Resistance lost, then _you_ would be dead.

And it wasn’t just the fact that you knew your relationships wouldn’t be sustainable because somebody had to die at the end of all of this. No. It wasn’t just that.

The real trouble was that you weren’t supposed to like these people. You were supposed to _hate_ them.

It wasn’t all that hard to put distance between yourself and Kylo. You were grappling with the knowledge that you still needed to be on his good side, but you also shouldn’t get too close. But you were nearing Naboo. And with any luck, Evander would report that the Resistance was preparing their strike.

If that was the case, then soon enough, all of this would be over.

Two full days passed without you seeing Kylo, but he also hadn’t sent for you. Maybe he was finally over his infatuation with you. That would have made everything all the easier. Even though the thought made your stomach twist, you supposed you should wish that he just didn’t want you anymore.

It was the morning following those two days in limbo. Gil entered your apartment and stood in the doorway in his standard at-ease position—military-esque but still noticeably relaxed.

“I’ve come to escort you to the Emperor’s command shuttle.”

Your brow pinched. “His command shuttle?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

You swallowed heavily. “I didn’t know I’d be traveling with him.”

“Well. It’s what he commanded.”

“I see,” you murmured, smoothing down your skirt. At least you’d dressed in something half-decent. “I guess I should just pack up first-”

“Don’t worry about that. Someone will deliver your belongings to Naboo. The Emperor is waiting for you.”

“He’s waiting for me? You mean...we’ve arrived already?”

Gil nodded.

Your face broke into a grin. You’d never so much as stepped foot on another planet before.

Now, you were finally about to step foot on Naboo.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

When you reached the hangar closest to your sector of the ship, sure enough, the Emperor was waiting for you.

When he saw you though, he turned briskly, pounding his way inside of the shuttle.

“Gil,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll see you when we land.”

Your brow knit, but when you turned back to your guard, he had turned, too, walking off towards the Night Buzzard without another word.

“Where’s Gil going?” were the first words you’d uttered to the Emperor in two days.

“He won’t be joining us.”

“I thought he was supposed to go everywhere with me.”

“He’ll meet us on the hangar,” Kylo snarled.

You jolted, retracting your neck, actually startled by his tone, which was saying something. But there was something especially venomous about Kylo, you noticed, as you boarded the command shuttle. Something tense. Something off. He didn’t even look at you, which was surprising. After what happened the other night, you’d thought you’d made strides, which was precisely why you were avoiding him, because that’s what you were afraid of. But Kylo paid you little to no mind as the shuttle exited the hangar and headed for the bright blue planet in the not-so-far-off distance.

To say that Kylo’s exceptionally cold behavior didn't sting would have been a lie. But it was as if your emotions were on a low simmer. You were definitely confused, but as you approached the planet and hurtled into Naboo’s atmosphere, all you could really do was press your face to the window.

There were clouds. _Everywhere_. Clouds and sky.

Daylight.

Your face broke into a grin. You’d been in the depths of space for weeks now. You squinted your eyes against the harsh light of the sun as it began to shine more brightly with every stretch of sky that you passed.

And for once, Kylo Ren wasn’t at the forefront of your mind.

Because suddenly, you could see the Royal Palace of Naboo below you.

Your breath left your body as your eyes drank up the magnificent structure. Sandstone brick and brilliant green domes shone beneath the light of the sun, spearing the sky in winding, tall towers and staggering rotundas. Civilians walked the brick-laden streets below, dressed in robes and capes. Jets of waterfall shot out beneath the palace at every angle, spouting into the crevice below the cliff that it was perched upon. It was the first piece of land you’d seen, the first civilization outside of the planet you’d been born on.

You’d never been on another planet before. Never even seen one.

Not until now.

But the second the warmth had seeped into your heart was the second your soul iced back over. You pinched your brow as you squinted your eyes, trying to get a better look. Weeks in space had completely kriffed your vision to hell, and now that you were back in the atmosphere, the sun was blinding you.

But as the shuttle neared the palace, looming over the bustling hub of Theed Capital City, something struck you as off. Something was very, very wrong.

“Where are all the trees?” you asked, spinning around you gawk at Kylo. But he wasn’t even looking at you. He was standing in the doorway of the cockpit and the main hold, speaking in hushed tones with the pilot. An army official stepped forward, straightening his spine and lifting his chin to speak with you.

“They were burnt, Your Highness. During the uprisings.”

You nodded. Naboo, Bespin, Coruscant...during the Battle of Exegol, countless cities and even entire planets had risen up to take a stand against the Sith. The First Order had crushed them all. And a new Order had risen in its wake.

“Many of the structures were able to be rebuilt or repaired,” he explained. “Nature will take its own course. Though we’ve cleared out some of the land to construct new weapons facilities.” He delivered the information like it should have pleased you. You curled your lip and turned back to the window.

And that’s when you noticed them—flashes of red and black all across the exterior of the palace.

Banners. Hung over the battlements, strung to the walls. Banners bearing the insignia of the Final Order.

Your stomach flipped, and in a very ill-timed moment, the pilot took a deep left turn, and suddenly, the shuttle was speeding around the walls of the castle before coming to a gradual halt, softly floating into the palace’s hangar. You took a breath, centering your energy. Just as the General had taught you. Immediately, you felt a sense of peace. The ramp lowered. And you walked towards the exit of the shuttle.

It was a strange mix of futuristic and archaic. Whoever had built Theed Palace had been a true artisan. Many Final Order vessels lined the entire hangar: transports and freighters and TIE fighters. But you recognized a different style of ships. Sleek, silver, rounded ships stood out among all the clunky dark ones. Where the Final Order was black, gray, sterile, and functional, Naboo was sandstone and platinum, shiny and elegant. In a place like this, Kylo Ren was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

As the ramp of the shuttle descended and you stepped foot onto the hangar, you turned to Kylo.

But he was already brushing passed you, pounding towards the back of the hangar, flanked by officials, until he was out of sight.

True to Kylo’s word, Gil landed only minutes after you did. You sidled up next to him faster than you’d like to admit. You shouldn’t have been angry or bitter that Kylo was ignoring you. You were ignoring him, after all, and you supposed it only meant that your plan was working. You should have been happy.

But as Gil escorted you down the hangar and into the palace, even you had to admit that your jealousy was showing. You gripped his arm, craning your neck to gaze at the vast, cavernous halls that stretched above your head.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed.

“The palace has been unoccupied for a year. Hundreds of ‘troopers and attendants have been preparing it for your stay.”

“But...it’s empty.”

“Right, well, that’s more in line with Master’s style.”

“Fine,” you muttered, releasing your grip on his arm as you neared the grand staircase.

“Remind you of home?” he asked.

“A little,” you murmured, admiring the grand hall above the staircase. “But it’s different, too. This isn’t the kind of place I can imagine Kylo living in.”

“I would guess Master would feel more in his element aboard the Steadfast. But his decision to station in Naboo-”

“I know, I know,” you breathed, finishing the thought. “It’s all about showing the galaxy that Naboo’s prior affiliations with the Republic are dead.”

“Not just that,” Gil murmured, taking a step closer to you. “Master’s grandfather used to walk these very halls.”

You turned your head so you were looking at him, and could feel your eyes widen before you could stop them. “Darth Vader.”

“Before he was Darth Vader, yes.”

“He was here?”

“We’re standing in his shadow as we speak.”

Your blood ran cold, and you looked away from Gil. You weren’t sure how any of that made you feel. If it made you more afraid of Kylo Ren, or if it made you feel sorry for him.

“Let’s get you to your quarters,” Gil said when you didn’t respond. Considerably more quietly, you followed him up the stairs.

When he dropped you off at your room, you thought you’d have some time to yourself. To recharge, and to figure out how you were supposed to find Evander now that you’d arrived on Naboo. To your surprise, however, your room wasn’t empty when you arrived.

There were two women, dressed in black robes, veils covering their faces. They stood when you entered your new quarters, each of them giving you a low bow.

You stopped in the doorway, not having expected anyone.

But you found yourself unable to even address the two strange women before you. Because suddenly, you realized where you were standing.

It was even more magnificent than your bedroom back home. The walls were the same sandstone-shade that lined the grand halls and corridors in the rest of the palace, but there were trimmings and pillars ornamented with gold embellishments. Royal blue and purple curtains doused every corner, every window, every extravagant piece of furniture. There was a bed on an elevated platform, big enough for three people or more, shrouded in a canopy. The windows had to have reached nearly thirty feet, and beyond them, you could see the valley, the waterfalls, the smog and smoke from the weapons factories that stood where the forests used to be.

Stunned, you turned to the women. “I think I have the wrong room.”

“No, Your Highness,” one of them softly, giving you another curtsey. “The Emperor sent us, ma’am. We have the great honor of serving as your handmaidens.”

“I- _oh_ ,” you breathed, as the realization dawned on you. You walked farther into the cavernous bedroom, slowly turning your body to take in every beautiful detail. This was certainly a step up from your accommodations on the Steadfast.

You opened your mouth to thank the handmaidens but before you could even speak, something large and metal clunked against your leg. Nearly toppling over, you gathered yourself and looked around wildly for the source of the impact.

A droid.

A small, jet-black, Final Order BB unit rolled briskly into the room from behind you.

“BB-9E will send for any help or service you may need, ensure your lodgings are well kept and maintained, and serve as an added layer of security for Your Highness.”

“Right. Fantastic. That’s...really nice. Thank you for all your help. For everything you’ve done. The room looks beautiful.”

“Would Her Highness like a change of clothes? A bath, perhaps, or some tea?”

You cocked a brow. You’d showered last night, and your dress was fine. Stunning, actually. Blue and drapey. Very Naboo. “No. I think I’d like to see more of the palace for now. But I’ll certainly send for you tonight. Thank you,” you said again, giving them a nod.

You turned from the room, but noticed that you were being followed. Cocking a brow once again, you stared down at the droid. “BB-9E...stay here. Don’t worry, I’ll have my bodyguard. Just...guard my room for me. If my trunks aren’t delivered in an hour, go rough up some ‘troopers for me.”

BB-9E blipped eagerly, spinning around and zooming back into your bedroom.

You sighed. Now, you had to figure out the chances of you exploring Naboo without your bodyguard.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

The answer: slim to none.

Gil was on your heels the second your feet hit the corridor outside your room. The security outside the Palace was so strict that you were sure getting Gil to leave you alone for five minutes wouldn’t be impossible. But you’d have to feel the situation out lightly, in order to keep yourself from giving away your intentions to go off alone. But Evander had said he would find you in Naboo. You had no idea what that meant or what he had planned, but you knew that he’d know when you’d arrived. And you had to do everything in your power to give him the opportunity of finding you alone.

When you and Gil exited the palace and stepped into the courtyard, the sun was beginning to set. You made a big show of inspecting the walls and pillars like you had some sort of interest in architecture. Anything to make him bored enough to be willing to leave you alone for a minute.

“Can you go tell the kitchens that I want flatcakes with dinner again tonight?”

Gil sighed, looking over his shoulder, as if someone would be standing behind him, ready to tell him that was against the rules. .

“Come on. You don’t want to take a walk around the gardens with me, do you? It’ll be boring. I’ll only be a little while, I promise. I’ll be fine.”

“Well...I guess we’re still in the palace walls.” Gil clicked his tongue. “Fine. But don’t tell Master.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you told him flatly.

Gil sighed once again, but he didn’t argue. He set off back towards the palace, and you set off for the courtyard.

Kylo Ren had been right about one thing—there was very little left of the gardens. There were very few actual living things left in Theed, but there were several pillars and gazebos. A lot of walls. A lot of crevices, and places to hide. You set off, winding through the courtyard, not even sure where you were going, or even if it mattered.

 _Okay, Evander_ , you thought. _I can only give you so much time. You said you’d come and find me when I got here. Well...I’m here._

You lost count of how many corners you turned. But rather quickly, you were deep in the center of the courtyard. Wedging yourself in between a gazebo and a high sandstone wall, you looked around. No guards in sight.

And then suddenly—an arm around your wrist.

You gasped in shock but nearly in the same instant, you knew that he’d found you. Evander was practically a master in stealth. And he’d never failed you before.

The second you found his glossy hazel eyes was the same second your breath left your body.

“Evander!” you choked, flinging your arms around his neck and yanking him into a hug. “How did you get in here? There are ‘troopers everywhere.” You pushed yourself off of him, whipping your head over your shoulder to look for guards. It looked like Evander had found the perfect blind-spot and waited for you.

“Wasn’t easy. But I _am_ Resistance Commander for a reason,” he said, shuffling into his jacket pocket.

“We don’t have much time,” you warned. "I’m watched like a hawk.”

“I know,” he breathed, voice no stronger than a whisper. “Report.”

“Uh...right.” You cleared your throat. “Upwards of half of the Final Order fleet was destroyed at Exegol. A hundred and fifty Xyston class Star Destroyers remain, none of which have been used. They’re almost strictly offensive weapons, and cannot operate shields in the atmosphere. Following the battle of Exegol, the First Order crushed the ground uprisings on Coruscant, Naboo, Corellia, Jakku, Bespin, and Endor in the name of the Sith Eternal. All of them surrendered, and subsequently, no planet-destroying weapons were used.”

Something in Evander seemed to shrink. “A hundred and fifty star destroyers?”

“Better than the four hundred that were at Exegol.”

“Except the Resistance could only destroy that many ships because the Battle of Exegol happened in the atmosphere. Now, the Order will just keep the fleet in space, and the ships will be undefeatable.”

“Evander,” you breathed. “We have time. They’re not planning to use the star destroyers.”

“Not yet,” he corrected you.

“Think about it. If they just start blowing up planets, there won’t be a galaxy to rule. As long as they don’t think the Resistance is a threat, there’s no need to destroy any planets. But Evander,” you pleaded, seizing his arm. “Kylo Ren suspects the Resistance was behind the attack of Bothawui. You _have_ to lie low.”

“What’s he like?” Evander pressed, gripping your arms.

“I...what?”

“The Emperor. Is he...are you...are you alright?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you gripped his arms. “It’s difficult. When I came here, I thought I’d be sort of a...a partner. It's gotten a little better. He doesn’t treat me as much like a prisoner now, but he doesn’t trust me very much. Mostly, he just _hates_ me. You wouldn’t even think I’m his fiancé.”

“You’re not. Not really. Remember that.” Evander smoothed down the hair at the sides of your face, staring into your eyes. “We’re getting you out of there as soon as we’re ready.”

Suddenly, you couldn’t stand to hold his gaze any longer. What you’d told him about Kylo was true. But you were certainly withholding the detail about how you were fucking him left, right, and sideways whenever you could.

“Princess?” A voice in the distance. _Gil_.

Your heart leapt to your throat, and when you turned back to Evander, he was thrusting a note into your hand.

“It’s from the General,” he told you urgently, voice hushed. “She said it was for your eyes only.”

Your brow knit. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but I trust her. Destroy it after you’d read it.”

“Princess?” Gil again. Closer this time.

“Go,” you urged, gripping his arms. As much as he needed to leave, you wished that he could have stayed with you. Better yet, you wished you could leave with him. It crushed you, knowing that you were about to be alone once again.

“Princess,” he breathed, cupping your cheek. “I’m proud of you.”

Suddenly, your eyes felt very wet, and you found yourself having to bite back tears. “Go."

You barely had time to blink, and instantly, Evander was gone. The sun was growing dim, and you knew you had very little time. Against your better judgment, you tore open the note, eyes scanning down its length.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

_Princess,_

_I’ve waited quite some time to write you this letter. After the war, the galaxy was plunged into such a terrible darkness, I regret to say I went along with your mother’s desires without considering my own. With such an absence of hope, I lost my way._

_As you know, your mother has instructed you to assassinate the Emperor. The Final Order has only been in power for a year. In that year, I’ve been just as surprised as everyone else to find that there is a quiet, if unsettling, peace in the galaxy--with the exception of Bothawui. We expected things to be much worse. I fear this strange era of stillness may only be because the Order is simply still garnering their resources and power, and planning a larger strike._

_However, another part of me believes that it is because the Emperor is not a lost cause yet._

_I know your mother is pulling you in a certain direction, as are your people. I know you feel lost and afraid._

_I regret to say that I, too, must ask far too much of you._

_By now, you will have come to know the Emperor. I understand that if the Order is planning to strike on any planet or civilization, then he is truly gone, and must die. But I must ask you to search for any hesitation, any goodness, any conflict that may be left within him._

_If he’s still there, then I must ask you to spare my son._

_-General Leia Organa_

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

You thrust the note into your bra. You could hear Gil’s footsteps now. But you felt like you were going to be sick.

You had no time to react. No time to process. Suddenly, Gil was rounding the corner of the gazebo wall. You swallowed down the panic, called upon every ounce of energy to center your body and calm your mind. To quiet you. To quiet everything.

Gil gawked at you, seizing your arms on either side. “I’ve been calling for you. Why didn’t you answer me?”

You blinked, somehow managing to feign confusion. “You called for me? I swear I didn’t hear you.”

His fingers tightened around your biceps. “Hand to the Gods,” you murmured casually. “I was just enjoying the view.” Slowly, you slid from his grip and turned towards the cliffside. Three large moons were beginning to glisten just above the horizon.

You heard him exhale. Felt his body relax.

“I’m a kriffing idiot,” he sighed, shaking his head. Then, without warning, though more gently this time, he took your wrist and began to lead you back towards the palace. “I’m never leaving you alone again.”

You tried to stay casual while listing off all the reasons he didn’t need to supervise you at every single waking moment. But the gnawing at the back of your brain was impossible to ignore. Your mind had gone numb by the time Gil delivered you back to your quarters. And you tried to push the contents of the letter deep into the crevices of your mind, where they’d remain undetected by Kylo and his goons.

Because in an instant, everything had changed. Your mission had been simple—to collect the requested intel, and kill the Emperor.

And now General Organa had asked you to spare his life.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

You left Gil in the corridor and took your meal alone, burning the note on a candle that one of your handmaidens had lit prior to dinner. You ate in silence, not asking for any company, Knights or otherwise. You just wanted to be alone. Because your brain was breaking.

How could the General ask you to change the entire crux of your mission? How were you supposed to defeat the Order if the Emperor lived?

You thought about telling Evander the next time you saw him, but the General had only intended for you to know. Whatever she wanted you to do, it would have to be up to you. But you had no idea— _no idea_ what to do.

There was something off about Kylo Ren. Everyone had told you he was the most evil man in the galaxy. A slave to the dark side.

And while he certainly wasn’t a ray of sunshine, he also didn’t seem to take after Emperor Palpatine.

After all, he didn’t even call himself a Sith.

But at the same time, how many rebels had died during the uprisings? How many citizens of Naboo were slaughtered before they surrendered? How many had the Emperor ordered to die?

Your mind was reeling with confusion to the extent that it felt like it was shattering. After dinner, you took a bath, and then lied in bed for a while. That didn’t help. You couldn’t even lie still for two minutes before your mind was swimming again, stress surging within your body, clenching your muscles. You were forced to fight back your tears as you swung your legs over your bed, retreating to the balcony.

BB-9E chirped at your side. At least that brought a tiny smile to your lips—even if he was an enemy droid.

“Go to sleep, BB-9E. I’m only going out back.”

A few beeps of agreement later, and BB-9E was whirling back inside, as you stepped through the opening between pillars to find yourself on the balcony. The far wall of your room was completely open, leaving a wide and touchable view to the stunning cliffside of Naboo. A few brisk steps and suddenly, you found yourself basking in the light of three moons. But even as you stared at the staggeringly beautiful landscape, you didn’t feel all that much comforted. Because so much had been tainted. So much of the trees had been burnt away. You didn’t even try to bring yourself to think about how many how many homes had been burnt down, too.

But it wasn’t the fall of Naboo that was weighing so heavily on your shoulders. Or rather, not alone. The true crushing blow was the frustration you felt with yourself.

For the first time since arriving to your new home, you let yourself consider that you weren’t very good at your job. Kylo Ren was right—you'd bent to his will in an instant. Though you’d successfully hidden the secrets of the Resistance, you couldn’t resist _him_ if your life depended on it. You’d heard stories of Commander Kylo Ren burning down villages, ordering the slaughter of hundreds of innocents. You were on a mission to end his reign as Emperor, with full knowledge of his crimes. And you’d still let him put his hands on you. More than that—you'd _liked_ it.

You released a small noise as you braced yourself on the railing of the balcony—something between a grunt and a sob. You hadn’t let yourself cry since coming to join the Order, not really. Maybe a tear here and there, but that was nothing to the storm you could feel mounting inside of your body. Your fingers tightened on the railing, knuckled whitening from the strain.

Kylo was right. You were weak.

And it didn’t end there. Because for months, you’d been told that you had to kill the Emperor. And now, General Organa was asking you to spare him if he could be turned.

Killing him would have been so much easier than turning him back to the light. Now, it was your job to risk your life to see if he might be turned. But one slip-up, one misstep, if he saw through you even for a second, he’d kill you.

And stunningly, it didn’t end there, either. Because there was something inside of you, too. A power that had been slumbering for all your life. Trembling, you raised your hands in front of your eyes. Whatever power, whatever Force was inside you hadn’t woken up yet. And it terrified you, wondering when it would.

Shuddering, something choked you on the way out of your chest. Another cry. Your eyes misted and you turned your face away in shame, not even sure what you were turning from. _Get it together, you told yourself._ _You’re a princess. You’re a spy. Kriffing act like it_.

You sputtered as the tears spilled over, burying your face in your hands, elbows pressing into the railing. Unwilling to let yourself cry like a child, you grunted in frustration, cursing yourself.

This was never going to be easy. But you hadn’t expected it to be hell.

“You’re crying.”

You gasped, throat burning as you sucked in a sharp stream of air. Wheeling yourself around and pinning your hands to your side, you found yourself wishing that you could will away tears.

Because Kylo Ren was standing before you.

His cape was flowing gently in the breeze, flittering around his ankles. His hair was flowing too, and instantly, you found yourself relieved to see that his helmet was nowhere to be found.

Swallowing down your surprise at seeing him, and catching your breath (which was necessary, because seeing his face alone had winded you,) you hastily wiped your cheeks. Before you could come up with an excuse to defend the tears, Kylo was lifting his chin, speaking once again.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Breath stuttered out of your chest as you stared at him.

“Tell me why you’re crying.”

“I’m not,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

Unspeaking as he examined you, Kylo tilted his head. “You’re afraid I’ll think you’re weak.”

“You _told_ me you think I’m weak,” you spat back at him. “If it’s the last thing I’ll do, I’ll show you I’m not.”

Kylo took a step forward. “Don’t think that I underestimate you,” he murmured, brow twitching.

You shook your head, folding your arms across your chest and rubbing your palms up and down your biceps against the barely-crisp wind. “I know that you underestimate me.”

“No,” he mumbled. “Because I’ve felt how strong the Force is within you. I’ve felt your power, brewing under the surface. Silent, for now, but it’s there.”

You swallowed thickly, saying nothing.

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” he asked, nodding slightly, as if in encouragement. “Is that why you’re crying?”

Determined not to cry again, you took a step back, as if every shred of distance between you and Kylo was a weight off of your shoulders.

“You can tell me,” he urged. “The Force can be overwhelming, especially at first. Especially with those who don’t understand their own power.” Kylo inhaled sharply. “You can tell me. You can talk to me.”

Looking away, you felt your jaw set as you fought to will back the tears. You knew he only wanted to know about your feelings relating to the Force, and you knew why that was. If you had even a little bit of power, if could be the thing either to serve him or threaten his reign. You knew he would want to wield it for himself.

But who else could you turn to?

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, holding out your hands and shaking them in frustration, as if you could shake the power of the Force out of your fingertips. “It’s not awake yet. And I don’t know what it’s going to do to me when it is.”

“When it is,” he said urgently, taking a brisk step forward, so abrupt that you could hear his cape whipping the wind, “I will be there to guide you.”

Your brow twitched, lifting in concern. “I know,” you told him. _That’s what I’m afraid of_.

“Don't be afraid of who you are. The Force lives within you. That’s not something to fear. I will teach you how to tame it. To control it.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I know,” he breathed, brow twitching.

Once again, you held your breath.

“You are wildly untamable and far too defiant for your own good.” Instantly, you tensed, thinking he was scolding you. Mentally, you braced for the impact. But it didn’t come. Instead, Kylo’s brow seemed to soften. “When they told me they were sending me a princess, I thought she’d be soft. But nothing about you is soft.”

“I never had that luxury,” you told him. “I never had the chance to be soft.”

Silently, he shifted his weight as he stood there—staring down on you. His brow was slightly pinched, eyes narrowed a hairsbreadth. Gods, you hated it. You hated how much you loved to look at his face when he looked at you curiously, like you were an enigma, something to be discovered.

You took another step, and with it, you’d brought yourself far too close to him. His chest was nearly brushing yours. Another step, and you’d be touching him.

“Would you rather they send you someone soft? Maybe you can exchange me for another princess.”

Only slightly, his chin lifted. His eyes didn’t leave yours as you leveled with the silence. Kylo’s brow lifted as he gave you his answer.

“No.”

Kylo didn’t move. And you felt stunned the second you realized that this was the first he’d stood so close to you without breathing heavily with anger, or wrapping a hand around your throat in an attempt to bend you to his will. As he stared at you, he almost looked patient—just barely, eyes swimming with a tense eagerness.

Your breath stuttered in your throat, and you were left with the crippling tension of silence and the crushing weight of Kylo’s eyes. No—it was happening again.

And it was vital that you resisted.

But _was it_? What if sleeping with the enemy could be forgiven, if only done for the sake of your mission? You _needed_ to be on his good side. Now more than ever—because now, you had to figure out if he was truly evil. What if an intimacy, a bond with him, could tell you if he could be turned?

And what if you could be the thing that turned him?

You inhaled, and your eyes darted up towards him. Once they were there, there was no hope in moving them away.

And you realized that you didn’t feel guilty anymore. If you kissed with him, if you fucked him, if you dreamed about him—you no longer had to stop yourself from feeling the things you were doing. You no longer had to resist the way you wanted him.

Because now, it was part of your mission.

“I need a teacher,” you breathed. “I need you to guide me. I don’t want to lose control.”

Kylo inhaled, chin lifting slowly, eyes never once leaving your face. Then, his hand was on your hip, sliding towards the small of your back. Only then did his eyes flicker downward. His face was blank as he studied the curve of your ass through your loose-fitting blue gown. But there was a soft tension in the way he held his jaw, a flicker of something dark and hungry behind his eyes.

“You don't,” he hummed. “But that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

Silence, and nothing. For a minute, time seemed to stand still as if someone had pulled it back like the band of a slingshot, and was holding it in its launch position. That how it felt to hold his gaze.

And then, time snapped into motion once again. You couldn’t even inhale a full stream of air before Kylo’s lips were crashing into yours. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his middle, yanking him against your body. His lips were hungry, as were his hands. He growled into your mouth, fingers digging greedily into the flesh of your ass. Your hands roamed; once you realized he was as close as he could possibly be, you began to explore, twining them in his hair, snaking them down his face.

Suddenly, you were yanking him backwards, fighting to keep your lips against his as you walked back towards your bedroom and off of the balcony. You stumbled blindly, kissing him awkwardly as you tried to rip him towards your room. But his hands kept you steady, and most importantly, on two feet. By the time the backs of your legs had hit the bed, Kylo’s and your fingers were fighting in tandem to rip off his belt. You slid his tunic off his shoulders before yanking his black sweater off of his head.

Your heart kicked at the way his locks of dark hair flopped back downward in their regular positions, framing his angular face, as you pulled off his sweater. Already, he was panting for air, and so were you.

Suddenly, your lips parted. Kylo’s fingers moved to your shoulders, gently sliding the straps of your dress down your arms. His eyes held yours until your chest was free and you felt the gown rolling down your hips. Then, his eyes flickered down towards your chest. You watched him grit and jaw, swallowing gently as he took in your naked body, illuminated by nothing but the shimmering light of Naboo’s three moons, hanging lowly in the sky just beyond the balcony. There was something about Kylo Ren watching you—taking you in. It made you shudder. Twisted your heart in a way you didn’t understand.

Once the gown was off, you stepped carefully out of it, looking to Kylo for permission. His eyes were glued to your tits, jaw still clenched, chest heaving.

As if he was waiting for something uncontrollable to unleash from inside him.

He realized you were waiting. His eyes found yours again. They were dark and cold and hungry.

“Lie back,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched, and slowly, you lowered your back onto the mattress. Propping yourself on your elbows, you stared at him, watching the dramatic rise and fall of his chest, prepping yourself for him to fuck you.

But Kylo Ren sank to his knees instead.

Your breath stopped altogether when his hands found your panties, hooking his fingers beneath the straps and yanking them downwards. He gripped your thighs, pressing one to your chest and stretching the other out wide, leaving you exposed as you could be and your muscles straining. You didn’t even have time to fully process what was happening before his tongue was sliding up your clit.

You only meant to gasp, but the sound came out as a strained choke. Kylo’s tongue was wet and warm but his lips were almost better; immediately, he set to work, kissing and sucking your clit, ravaging you completely before drawing away to flick his tongue repeatedly against your sizzling nerves. He was sloppy and desperate and within moments, you felt yourself dripping, both your arousal and his saliva coating your inner thighs.

“Kylo,” you whimpered.

He sucked back on your clit, releasing it with a soft pop. Then, his tongue flicked over it once again. “Look at me,” he purred.

Your eyes snapped open; you hadn't even realized you’d shut them. But the sight you were met with was one you could have stared at for the rest of your life--

Kylo Ren, mouth pressed to your pussy, eyes flickered upwards to bore into yours as he ate you out.

Something inside of you seemed to loosen, then flood with warmth.

“Kylo I-”

His tongue slid up the entire length of your pussy, just barely breaching your entrance.

“Fuck!” you cried. “I’m gonna cum,”

He groaned against you, sending vibrations wracking against your clit. Then, sliding two fingers into your cunt, he pumped them rapidly inside of you, his face buried into your sex.

Watching that, feeling the added pressure—you were a lost cause.

Your back arched and your face screwed up in pleasure as Kylo’s tongue and fingers worked you through your orgasm. You felt your legs tremble as you released a scream, and somewhere in all the ecstasy, you registered the feeling of his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady against him. Burning with heat and desperation, you finally relaxed against the mattress. Kylo’s tongue had slowed, and as you came down from your high, he planted lazy, wet kisses against your clit. When you were finally still, he pulled away.

Your chest was still heaving, and you could feel the flush creeping across your face and neck. In fact, you already felt exhausted. But in that moment, nothing would have kept your hands off of him. In the same instant Kylo began to rise to his feet, you fumbled to your knees, fingers darting towards his pants.

Undoing the clasps, your eyes flickered up towards his, as if asking for permission. His jaw was still clenched, and his face was as cold and unfeeling as ever. But the backs of his fingers trailed down your cheek, and curtly, he nodded.

You wasted no time in pulling Kylo’s cock free, and you wasted even less time in drawing it to your mouth. Pumping it eagerly in your hand, you licked a broad stripe up the underside of his shaft, and from above you, you heard him inhale. Then, wrapping your lips tautly around the tip, you sucked down as much of his length as you could without choking.

Still humming from your own orgasm, you sucked him with eagerness and desperation, moaning softly around his intrusive size. You pumped him into your mouth with one hand and swirled your tongue each time your head bobbed upwards towards the tip.

You pulled him out to catch your breath, gulping down lungfuls of air before setting to work again, this time, taking him deeper. He grunted as his length encroached on your throat, and you gargled around his size. But you kept your throat open as your lips reached the base of his cock, tongue sliding against the shaft that stuffed your mouth. Kylo groaned, pressing his hips harder against you. Pulling your lips off of him, you felt a dribble of drool string against your chin, and when you reached the surface, you were gasping for air once again.

Before you could even process what would happen next, still heaving for oxygen, Kylo's hand was suddenly fisted in your air, yanking you against him. Your chest pressed to his middle, and his free hand, he stroked the side of your face, thumb dragging through the mess of spit on your jaw.

“Should I even ask how such a good little princess knows how to use her mouth like that?”

You shuddered, not even bothering to think of an answer. Kylo’s lips were on you again in a second, tongue sliding into your mouth as he lowered himself onto the bed.

His lips never left yours but his hands guided you, gripping your thighs and yanking you on top of him. You straddled his hips and shuddered as you felt the head of his cock teasing your folds.

Kylo pulled his lips away only to gaze up at you, one hand resting on the side of your neck, thumb pressing lightly into your throat.

“I want to see you let go,” he breathed suddenly.

You shook your head madly, desperate to feel him inside you, your own arousal beginning to cripple you. “I don’t know what that means,” you sputtered.

“You said you don’t want to lose control. The idea scares you.” He gripped you tighter now, more urgently. “I want you to let go. I want you to let me fuck you so hard that it terrifies you.”

Your breath stuttered out of your chest and you managed a shaky nod, practically stammering with whimpers as finally, Kylo pressed into you.

You released a loud, shameless moan as you felt him fill you. His hips came flush with yours and you groaned in relief, beginning to ride him in earnest, finding a pace that was just about as desperate as you felt. Kylo grunted, fingers digging into your thighs as you rode his cock. But Kylo wasn’t a man willing to give up control so easily. Within seconds, his hands were gripping your hips, keeping you locked above him as he thrusted upwards. Your jaw fell open and the moans that started didn’t stop. With Kylo ramming himself into you from below, there was nothing to do but cry out.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed. You fell flat against his chest and his lips trailed your ear, peppering desperate kisses just below it. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He landed a rough smack against your ass. You whimpered, working your hips to meet his thrusts halfway, egging him on, as well as the hand that was welting your skin. Kylo growled in your ear, spanking you again. Layers and layers of pain, the strength behind the force of his arm biting your skin.

And all you could do was beg him for more.

“Such a dirty fucking slut,” he growled, before swallowing your lips with his, pressing his mouth carelessly and sloppily against yours. Without breaking the kiss, Kylo abruptly pulled out of you and wrestled you onto your back.

“ _Fuck. That’s it_ ,” he groaned, feeling himself cleave into you at a deeper angle, just how you felt him ramming against your cervix. Your mouth went agape at the change in position, lips failing to hold back tumbles of moans as you felt Kylo Ren split you open.

Your head fell back and your spine arched as you fisted the sheets into your trembling fingers.

“No,” he growled, seizing a fistful of your hair and wrenching your face towards his. “You’re going to look me in the eyes while you cum on my cock.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he maneuvered you for his pleasure. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, jaw clenched taut as he stared into your soul—all while wracking his hips against yours. His chest heaved with air. And you noticed how he was beginning to tremble.

Kylo grunted, ramming into you with more force, hips snapping at slow but piercing pace.

You parted your lips to moan his name, but the sound died, and instead, released on a yelp as abruptly; Kylo seized one of your thighs and threw your leg over his shoulder. Now, you felt as if he was splitting you open. And the pace of his thrusts were beginning to accelerate, blinding you with pain but searing you with a pleasure that had you teetering on the edge. You could feel your orgasm brewing in your gut, but there was something else, too. A desire to let it overtake you, body and mind.

A desire to let go.

“Kylo,” you groaned, feeling your impending orgasm swell in intensity, bathing you in heat. Instinctively, your eyes clamped shut. “Kylo, _I-yes. I’m gonna cum_.”

You braced yourself but suddenly, Kylo stopped, pulling himself out of you. And you became very aware of how unfilled you felt.

“What the fuck?” you sputtered.

“What did I say?” he hissed, clasping a hand around your throat and shoving the back of your head harder into the mattress. You sputtered under the crippling weight of his clenched fingers. “You’re going to let go. You’re going to give yourself to me. And above all,” Kylo grasped you harder. “You’re going to fucking look at me when you cum.”

You trembled, chest rising and falling dramatically, body aching for release. 

Kylo snarled, smothering your mouth with his is a scalding kiss before grappling you roughly by the hips and flipping you onto your stomach. Grasping your upper thighs, he yanked your ass into the air, giving you no warning before plunging inside of you again.

Wrapping an arm around your throat, Kylo wrenched you upwards so his lips were at the shell of your ear. “You don’t want to submit? Fine. _I’ll make you_.”

You clawed at his forearms, trying to offset some of the weight against your windpipe. But you didn’t really care if you could breathe. Because suddenly, Kylo was pounding into you from behind, driving you towards the brink once again.

You arched your back to keep your ass press against him at the perfect angle, pussy stretching to take his cock. You could feel your own wetness dripping down your thighs as you were hit with another sensation. Suddenly, a low, muffled thrumming began to fill your ears, pounding against your skull. And you knew in the same instant that the Force was back—and Kylo was swirling it around your clit.

“Fuck,” you choked, practically drooling as he pounded you and worked the Force around your sensitive nerves. Heat was blooming in your core all over again, your previous orgasm flickering back to life, this time, racing towards completion. “Kylo--oh Gods. _I’m gonna_ -”

But suddenly, it was gone again. Kylo pulled out with a strained groan; clearly in his quest to make you suffer, he wasn’t making things easy on himself, either.

You collapsed against the bed, face slamming into the pillows, body and patience slipping through your fingers. You were trembling.

“Fuck! Please!” you shrieked, the sound muffled against the soft pillows. Your body writhed, ass squirming against his hips, a silent plea for him to give in and give you what you wanted.

Suddenly, Kylo was wrestling you onto your back all over again, pressing his chest against yours. His hands were ungentle as he snaked a hand down your thigh to bend your leg around his waist, giving him access to palm your ass. Dipping his lips towards yours, he hissed the words into your face as he spoke.

“Beg me for it.”

Sobbing, you shook your head. “I don’t know how!”

He placed a rough spank to your ass, and you screamed. “Yes you do. Let go. Give yourself over to me.”

The tears welling in your eyes were very real and all too overwhelming, blinding your vision and spilling over your cheeks, mingling with the sweat beginning to form on your face. You could feel your hair sticking to your forehead, could feel the blood thumping against your face. You didn’t know the first thing about begging—or rather, you did, but in practice, the whole thing made you feel too vulnerable to really try it.

So the only thing Kylo could do to work it out of you was to truly make you feel desperate—desperate to the point of breaking.

Kylo slid his cock through your folds and up your clit, sizzling you with pleasure but denying you the pressure you ached for.

“Please!” you screamed.

“I know you can do better than that.”

“I-”

“Do you want it? Does my princess want me to fuck her like the little slut she is?”

“ _Yes_!” you sobbed.

“You think you deserve to cum?”

“ _Yes! Please_!” you sputtered, face wet with tears, lips quivering.

Kylo’s palm landed roughly across your face, smacking you hard enough for it to sting, but the pain wasn’t so bad; you knew he didn’t want to hurt you too badly. Or maybe he just didn’t want to ruin your pretty face. Really, it was the shock of it all that made your eyes go wide and your mind fall into a haze.

You didn’t stop to question why you liked it. You just knew you had to have more.

“Please, I need to cum, please, Kylo.” You were full on sobbing now, desperate to cum like you’d never been desperate for anything else in your life. It truly felt like by denying you, he was squeezing the very oxygen out of your lungs. “Hit me, hurt me, I don’t fucking care, but please, Kylo, _let me cum, I’ll do anything_.”

Kylo’s pupils were blown, and you saw that he was trembling, too. You could have sworn he was about to hit you again, and then he did. His palm struck the same cheek before he clasped his hands roughly around your jaw

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, and then, finally, he slid into you once again.

Kylo tossed both of your legs over your shoulder, and instantly, you took him at the deepest angle you had all night. You released a scream as he rammed against your cervix, blinded by pain. But finally, Kylo was pounding you in earnest. And you could tell that this time, he wasn't planning on stopping.

His chest was pressed against yours, your legs folded against your chest as he leaned down to smother you with another rough, sloppy kiss. Everything was wetness and warmth.

And suddenly, Kylo was gone. There wasn’t a shred of humanity behind his eyes, his hips ruthless as he fucked you into oblivion.

“Kylo-” you warned.

“You want to cum?”

“ _Yes_ ,” you sputtered.

“Yes, what?”

Your lips parted, a hot stream of air kicking from your lungs. “ _Yes, Emperor._ ”

By the grace of the Gods, Kylo didn’t stop.

Your brain went quiet. And for the first time in recent memory, your thoughts, your fears, all the pressures of your mission—all of them simmered until they disintegrated. And you sensed nothing but Kylo’s cock splitting you open, pounding you through your orgasm, and then the sound of his ragged grunts brought you back down to earth.

You were coming down from your orgasm, but you flittered with warmth all over again—because Kylo was pounding you through your overstimulation, dizzying your whole body.

From underneath him, you mewled his name. That seemed to draw him from his frenzy. His eyes met yours. 

“You have no idea,” Kylo growled against your mouth. “You have _no idea_ what you’ve done to me.”

You didn’t even recognize the beast on top of you as Kylo thrusted himself through his orgasm. His lips parted when he began to cum, and he growled your name as he released himself, spurting ropes of cum deep inside your cunt. Propped on his forearm, Kylo trembled as he rode himself down. And you couldn’t do anything but stare at him.

But he didn’t meet your eyes. As soon as he’d gathered himself again, Kylo was slowly pulling out of you, wincing as he did so. You hissed at the stimulation, but he didn’t notice. He lowered himself onto his back, and the two of you lied there in silence, side by side.

“There are times when you will surrender yourself to the Force. You need to get used to letting go of your inhibitions,” he murmured.

Your mind was barely functioning. You couldn’t manage any words—only a stiff nod.

Only then did he finally turn to look at you.

“You’re shaking,” he breathed.

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

You heard him take a few steady breaths, and then he was standing. Your muscles were barely working, but you managed to sneak a peek from the corner of your eye—Kylo was lowering the covers and climbing back into bed next to you.

Your breath stalled as his arms found your shoulders, lightly maneuvering you. You jolted, looking up at him with concern etched plainly onto your face. He gave you a warning look. “You will lie with me,” he ordered plainly.

“Are you sure?”

“Do I look unsure?”

Silent, you hesitated only for a moment before settling yourself onto Kylo’s chest, wincing slightly as he brought an arm to rest lightly around your back.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he hummed.

Shakily, you inhaled. “I’m not.” You would have refused to admit that wasn’t completely true.

Surprisingly, Kylo didn’t fight you. Even more surprisingly, you felt his fingers lowly stroking your bicep. And you found yourself wondering what the hell was happening.

Then, out of the blue, something you never would have expected from the Emperor—“are you alright?”

You were shocked by the softness of his voice, and it made your eyes go wide. He inhaled deeply, and you rose with his chest. Peacefully, your eyes fluttered shut. But your answer instantly became clear.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

It felt foreign, lying against his chest. You’d never really been that close to him before—not unless you were having sex. Now, everything was silence and stillness. And he was letting you touch him. Letting you get close.

You inhaled slowly in an attempt to steady yourself, fingers trailing the curve of his side. You let your eyes flutter shut, reminding yourself that you didn’t have to feel guilty—not even for this.

It was all a part of the mission. 


	15. Did I Hurt You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So hear me out. This chapter, as well as a few chapters going forward, will mention Rey and Kylo's past dyad/relationship. I know that some people don't like reading about Rey in reader insert fics, but please don't let this be the thing that turns you away. Kylo's past relationships shape who he is now. No slander to Reylos intended.
> 
> There may (will definitely) be some confusion as to what happened at Exegol as we begin to explore it in these chapters. Please bear with me; we're putting the pieces together overtime, and as the story progresses, you'll learn more about what happened.
> 
> TW: Mentions/contemplation of suicide

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ONE YEAR EARLIER

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Kylo had gone to Exegol to join Rey in defeating Palpatine.

When he boarded the TIE fighter he'd found on Kef Bir and set a course for the Steadfast, both the girl and the Emperor were dead.

His hands gripped the steering, and he realized they hadn't stopped shaking since he'd crawled out of the pit that Palpatine had thrown him into without so much as lifting a finger. The dread at finding Rey's body hadn't even begun to dissipate, either. He realized quickly that it likely never would. His hands shook, teeth rattled as he approached the Steadfast. He could have been on his way to the Resistance base on Ajan Kloss by now. Rey could have been with him. They could have gone together. So lowering his TIE fighter into Hangar 1 felt like something out of a fever dream. 

A nightmare.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

She was still supposed to be here. She was supposed to be with him.

He hadn't stopped trembling even when he exited his TIE fighter. Troopers and officials alike scrambled as they saw the Supreme Leader step onto the hangar. They likely thought he was dead, or had deserted. Maybe they thought he was a complete and utter traitor.

The plan that Kylo had come up with wasn't a good one.

But it was the only one he had. The only option left.

There was destruction everywhere around him. On the way in, he'd seen at least two Star Destroyers explode. Dozens of damaged and smoking fighters lied haphazardly in the hangar. Even more pilots were being wheeled towards the sick bay.

Kylo looked around wildly. The battle wouldn't be easy, but the Resistance could still win. The Final Order Fleet couldn't operate their shields. It left their canons completely vulnerable, a massive oversight on the part of the Emperor.

If all went well, the Resistance would destroy the Steadfast.

And Kylo Ren would go down with the ship.

Clenching his fists, he walked to the Bridge, jaw set. He felt strangely empty. He was still drowning in dread and loss but his body felt strangely numb. More than anything, he felt tired. Planting himself in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the far wall of the Bridge, Kylo watched as the Final Order destroyers shot down fighter after fighter. Countless Resistance ships were downed by the Emperor's canons. But Star Destroyers were going down, too. 

Kylo's breath was strangely even. He tried not to think about when he would be next.

Eventually, he stopped watching. Or at least, he stopped processing the war happening in front of him. His eyes glazed over. Mind went blank. Ships burst into flames before his very eyes, pilots were thrown from their vessels, and Kylo didn't even register the half of it. Eventually, he became numb to the screams, to the explosions. He didn't know how long he stood there. All he knew was that somewhere along the way, his legs began to ache.

It would be easy. Rey had made it look easy. Peaceful. So had Han. So had every man and woman he'd ever killed, come to think of it. Kylo always thought when death came for him, he would be afraid. Now, he was having to fight to be patient.

Kylo had been standing there for a while. Perhaps he should have been suspicious of how long it was taking. But when General Pryde came bursting from the command deck, it didn't even cross Kylo's mind that the battle was over.

His brow knit as he watched General Pryde—deep in conversation with the Grand Moff. Pryde's eyes caught Kylo, and his words died on his tongue.

"Supreme Leader," Pryde stuttered. "Where have you been? _What happened to you_?"

Suddenly, Kylo wondered what was happening. Why were they still alive? "Report," he breathed blankly.

The general looked appalled at the command, as if Kylo didn't have any authority to give an order, and stuttered for a moment before managing a response. "The battle is over. The Resistance were aided by a fleet from the core worlds, but it was not enough. We've lost many ships, but the Resistance has been crushed. The Final Order has prevailed."

Kylo felt his heart fall to his stomach, his mind and soul implode. But after the shock passed, he felt hollow and empty and cold. He couldn't meet the general's eye as he thought about what the man had told him. The Resistance was gone— _all of them_.

"That's not possible," Kylo breathed.

"Supreme Leader," Pryde huffed. "I'm afraid I must insist that you tell me where you've been. Where are the Knights?"

"Dead," Kylo huffed, giving the General no more than his words as he brushed past him, not even sure where he was going—just desperate to be out of sight.

"Dead?" Pryde stuttered. "What of the Emperor? The scavenger girl?"

Kylo stopped dead in his tracks. "You're done asking questions, Pryde."

"Supreme Leader." Pryde lifted his chin and his voice lilted upwards. A pathetic attempt at bravery. "I am the _Allegient General_ of the First Order. I _must_ know what happened to the girl-"

Pryde began to sputter. Kylo didn't even need to lift a finger to crush the man's throat. Slowly, Kylo turned, facing his general and looking him in the eye in earnest. They'd gone wide with panic as he scratched at his throat, desperate to breathe, desperate to know if Kylo Ren was about to kill him.

Pryde slammed against the wall before he crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, bracing himself on hands and knees. The emptiness surged inside of Kylo, and then began to fizzle. Strange. He felt his fingertips tingle. Something swelled in his stomach. Gods, he was desperate to die. But there was some part of him was still alive. 

And he'd never been so desperate to act upon it.

"Palpatine killed her. And I killed him," Kylo snarled. A lie. Kylo knew full well what happened at Exegol. 

Pryde looked like Kylo had just informed him that he'd killed his first-born son. His eyes went wide, and Kylo could have sworn the general was about to cry. "You killed...the Emperor?"

"The Emperor had no intention to live. I suggest you save your tears, Pryde, and worry less about him and more about me, who's still here."

The general opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out.

"Deploy the fleet," Kylo growled. "Manage that, and I'll consider letting you live."

"Supreme Leader-"

"Didn't you hear me?" Kylo hissed, standing over Pryde, clenching his fists at his sides and hinging slightly at the waist. "The Emperor. Is _dead_."

Pryde's lips parted, quivering in fear as he stared into Kylo's eyes. "Long live the Emperor."

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A cool breeze brushing the surface of his arm woke him up—something so simple and so harmless. But the sensation pulled Kylo's body out of his sleep much slower than it did his mind. All of a sudden, he knew that he was sleeping in a place he didn't recognize. He jolted upright in bed, panting as he tried to search his surroundings in the dark.

And then his Princess stirred softly beside him, and he remembered exactly where he was.

He was in Princess's room. She'd given himself over to him. Kylo relaxed at the memory, muscles melting back into the mattress as he stared down at her. She was so pretty when she slept, body curled up like a little cat, spine curved softly, the perfect shape for Kylo to wrap himself around and hold. Just barely, he smiled down on her, and pressed a palm to the side of her face, fingers lightly brushing her hair. She was fast asleep, but he knew that she could feel him; she stirred again, whimpering softly and snuggling deeper against her pillow. A corner of Kylo's lips twitched upwards.

She had no idea. No idea how much she tormented him. No idea how much he _liked_ her. And he didn't have the faintest idea how to show it. Not only was she his Princess, but she was his student, too. His soft, submissive student, sweet until she wasn't.

And when she wasn't sweet, she was something even better.

He watched her for a moment longer before slinging his legs over the mattress, and began to pull his clothes back on. Kylo had a bit of a rule for himself—if he wasn't sleeping, he was working or training. Looking out towards the balcony, he saw that the moons were still shining brightly in the sky, and the sky was pitch black. There would be a good couple of hours until daylight, he guessed.

As Kylo pulled on his sweater, the BB unit wheeled towards Kylo, beeping lowly as if to keep from disturbing the girl. The droid was a gift from Kylo, though he hadn't told Princess. He'd tell her eventually. Or she'd figure it out. He didn't want to be overt with any softness he had towards her, and he just wanted her well protected.

"Don't wake her," Kylo murmured, watching the droid wheel back into the darkness, towards the corner of the room.

Kylo decided against dressing in the rest of his armor. He'd come back for it later. All he really needed was his saber. He picked up his weapon, which had also been discarded on the floor, before slipping quietly out of the room.

Gil wasn't on duty—even _he_ had to sleep sometimes. So when Kylo stepped into the corridor, he was met with the four Sith Troopers assigned to guard her at night.

"If she wakes, permit her to come find me. She's free to go where she pleases. I'll be training"

Kylo didn't wait for a response, starting down the corridor before the 'troopers could respond with "Yes, Sir."

The training facilities were in the lowermost portion of the palace, near the back, out of public eye and a ways away from the throne room and political sectors of the castle. Kylo preferred to be out of sight when he could, which was rarely. He didn't ask for more than that. He'd wanted to be active; when he declared himself the Emperor, he knew sure as all the Corellian hells that he wouldn't do what Palpatine did—sit in a large, empty chamber all day while other people saw to the Order's success.

That being said, he thought he was owed his privacy wherever he could have it.

He ignited his lightsaber in the same moment he twirled it in his hand, striding into the sparring chambers. Naboo wasn't his style, but Kylo's private facilities were large, open, empty, and, well, private. That was good enough for him, even if the sleek marble floor was too reflective for his taste, the walls and pillars far too pretty. The room was dark, at least, and that seemed to help.

Usually, Kylo trained with Finor, but there were times when being alone was helpful. He could think through his instincts, move at his own pace to ensure that every single aspect of his technique was flawless and perfectly in line. In the heat of battle, Kylo had trouble sticking to the forms that he knew. More often than not, he relied on his strength and little else, especially if he was spurred on by anger, which was usually the case. He inhaled hotly as he swung his blade, feeling the weight of his weapon. Even after a year, he felt like he was still adjusting to it.

It was a replica of his old one—the one that he'd pitched into the sea. After he returned to the Steadfast, he knew he needed a weapon. Even more, he needed people to not have a clue that he'd gotten rid of the old one. So he had it made in his old saber's exact likeness. That way, no one would know but Albrekh and the Knights. The only people he could trust.

Them, and maybe Princess. He was still deciding on that one. But she was impressing him more and more each day. And with each day that passed, he felt more drawn to her. Not that he'd let her know. She couldn't know that he was losing his inhibitions—no more than she already did, at least.

Kylo didn't know how long he'd been training, but he'd been ignoring the low ache in his legs for a while, which meant he had been perfecting his forms for over an hour. He moved through the motions slowly, a thin layer of sweat having formed against his forehead. He thought of the forms Snoke had taught him. The _old_ forms. They were all that was left of the Sith—Kylo may not have desired to be one of them, but he sure as all hells had a desire to fight better than them.

"Do you ever stop practicing?"

Her voice was soft, but Kylo flung around over his shoulder, brow knit in surprise. Princess had never managed to sneak up on him before. And this time, she'd actually _startled_ him.

She stood in the doorway in the same dress she'd worn before, though after he gave her curves a quick but thorough scan, he could tell she wasn't wearing undergarments.

He was in love with that gown, too. Flowy and just barely loose enough to tease the indecent slopes of her gentle, delectable body. Thin straps that hung low over her shoulders, plunging neckline teasing her cleavage to his eyes. A breathtaking blue that somehow shimmered shades of both purple and gold under the moonlight. A long, draping cape attached at her shoulder blades.

It was the only fabric between her and her naked body. Kylo was positive. She hadn't thrown on anything underneath. She must have dressed quickly, eager to come find him. Or eager to torment him.

Kylo cleared his throat in an attempt to catch his breath.

"Not since Bothawui" With his free hand, he clutched his healing wound, twirling his saber with the other. Not much time had passed since the attack. While he was making excellent progress, and while the puncture had mostly healed, it wasn't exactly an easy injury to recover from. He strode slowly across the room, almost circling her. She looked so small. His perfect little prey.

"You seemed completely fine to me when you were training me. Better than fine. I wouldn't have guessed it was still bothering you."

"It's not so much my performance," he murmured. "It's how I feel on the inside."

"Just give it a little more time," she said gently. Was she _smiling_ at him?

He knew his Princess to be one thing when she wasn't sleeping with Kylo or getting fucked by Kylo—a little fucking brat. And now, she was being the sweet little minx that Kylo saw so rarely, but dreamed about every single godsforsaken night.

He narrowed his eyes at her, pressing the button on his saber, listening to the blade whir as it sucked back into the hilt. "Why are you here, Princess?" he asked her.

She swallowed thickly. "I just...I didn't know where you were."

"Hmm. Does it matter to you where I am?"

Princess parted those soft lips of hers to speak, but just as Kylo expected, no sound came out. The corners of his lips twitched upwards, and he fought the sensation.

He took a step forward, and Princess suddenly looked like a Fathier caught in the headlights of a spaceship—eyes wide, and for once, _vulnerable_.

And Kylo relished in the feeling of closing in on her. Trapping her.

"You wish I hadn't left afterwards?" he murmured.

Uncomfortable, she shifted her weight. "I-"

"Do you wish I'd stayed with you?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek and looked away. Was she _embarrassed_? After what they'd just done, after she'd let him fuck her throat, after she'd gotten on all fours for him, after she'd leaked her arousal all over his face— _now_ she was feeling shy?

Kylo took two more steps forward so no space was left in between their bodies. Gently, he reached out, fingers finding her jaw and guiding her gaze back towards his. Instantly, their eyes locked.

"It's alright," he murmured. "Say it."

Her lips twitched, and listened to her breath rattle as she inhaled. "I wish you hadn't left me," she breathed.

Softly, Kylo nodded, fingers snaking upwards to hold her cheek. "My Princess missed me," he murmured.

Shifting her weight as if searching for friction, Princess whimpered softly. Fuck, he loved it when she whined for him. It made her look so weak. So submissive.

And it made Kylo feel so strong.

Those mystifying eyes of hers were boring into his as she took a step even closer, bringing her as close as she could possibly be to Kylo. Little brat, she knew exactly what she was doing. Kylo sucked in a sharp stream of air as he felt her body press against his, felt her press against his crotch. Involuntarily, his jaw tightened. But he couldn't look away from her if he tried. Unless he closed his eyes to kiss her.

Kylo captured her lips swiftly, inhaling sharply as his arms encircled her waist. And Gods above, she was so fucking responsive, mewling against his lips, fingers finding his cheeks to pull him closer, to brush over his skin. Then, they snaked into his hair. She _loved_ feeling his hair, loved pulling on it gently. She pressed her hips against his and Kylo growled into her mouth, reaching his hands downward to grasp at her ass.

She arched her neck, head falling back. Kylo was never one to waste an opportunity. He kissed his way down her throat, tongue dragging over her pulse-points before devouring the skin with his teeth. Sucking gently before peppering the area with more lazy, urgent kisses, he practically had to grit his jaw. Half the time, he truly couldn't tell if he wanted to kiss every inch of her tender skin or fucking eat her alive.

He supposed that ravaging her lied somewhere in the middle of the two.

She yelped in pain. 

His lips left her neck, and his eyes flickered up towards hers. "Did I hurt you, Princess?" he breathed.

"I'm okay," she choked, smoothing his hair. And then, through gritted teeth: " _Fuck_."

His eyes fell onto her neck. Yeah, that was going to bruise. Gods, that was so _juvenile_ of him. So _tacky_. But something about the mere thought of Princess covered in bruises and welts did something to Kylo he couldn't even begin to admit.

He placed one more sloppy kiss on her neck before finding her lips again. This time, he was gentler, kissing her slowly as his palm lightly pressed against her cheek, thumb resting above her ear. Kylo could practically feel her melt against him.

Fuck—he was going to get hard again.

He cleared his throat and pulled away, turning to the landscape of Naboo that lied outside the windows on the far wall, dropping his arms.

"Kylo."

"Hm."

"I just...I didn't get a chance to say thank you."

"For what."

"The bedroom," she scoffed, as if it should have been obvious. "Not to mention the droid. The handmaidens. I thought my room would be more like how it was on the Steadfast."

"Did you think I would allow my Princess to have anything but the best this city has to offer?"

He turned to her, and saw that there was confusion threaded onto every inch of her face. He knew she didn't understand him. He didn't blame her; he'd never been this nice to her before. He'd never been this nice to _anyone_ before.

Something must have put him in a good mood—something like watching her mouth stretch to take his cock, watching her get on all fours and stick her ass in the air, pounding her into oblivion.

People underestimated him; he could be a delight when he was in a good mood.

"Honestly, I'm surprised."

He took a strand of her hair between his fingers and twirled it slowly, eyes flickering downwards to admire the gentle slope of her lips. Gods, she really was perfect. "You did well aboard the Steadfast. You cooperated-"

Princess scoffed, as if even _she_ didn't believe that.

"Even if you were a nightmare to deal with at times. You still did well." Kylo lifted his chin. "You'll find that if you're good, I'll see that you're rewarded."

She exhaled, eyeing him.

"You're going to be my Empress. And I believe you've proven you're worthy of the title."

At that, her brows rose. "I never thought I'd live to hear you say that. I thought...I thought you didn't want me here. I thought you didn't even want an Empress at all."

"I didn't," he said sharply. "But my advisors think I need one. If that's what's best for the galaxy, then I'll comply, regardless of what I want."

Her face seemed to drop a little bit, bright features flooding with disappointment.

He cupped her cheek again, fingers lifting her face to raise her chin. "They sent me _you_. You're strong. Capable. Powerful. You're going to be a perfect Empress. Regardless of what I wanted, my advisors truly sent me the best that I could have had."

Her brow twitched, as if she wasn't sure if she should be flattered. Kylo could hardly blame her. But he still kept his hand strong on her cheek, ensuring that her head was held high as he spoke to her.

"What about what you wanted?" he murmured.

Again, confusion. She almost drew away as she stared at him in shock. "Me?"

Kylo swallowed thickly; never once had he asked her what she wanted. In fact, on more than one occasion, he'd explicitly stated that he didn't give a fuck about what she wanted.

"Surely you didn't want to come here and marry a man you didn't know."

She shrugged, chuckling softly. Kylo felt a flood of relief to see her features relax. "Before the Order came along, The Queen Mother was in talks to marry me off to a fifty-year-old ambassador from Calidum. So...I wasn't exactly dying to stay home."

At that, Kylo tensed. He'd never considered that his Princess was almost unavailable to him. Had other suitors. If the tides had been turned, maybe she'd be married off to that ambassador by now. His jaw clenched, chin lifting as he stared down at her.

"If I wanted you, I could have taken you from him," he decided.

She let out a breathy laugh. "You wouldn't even have known I existed."

"Hm," he murmured, turning away, tasting something sour in his mouth at the thought.

"At least this way, I can serve the Order. To meet the Emperor—to _marry_ the Emperor is an honor. To marry the old guy from Calidum would have been...it would have been such a waste."

He smirked softly, staring out onto the cliffside. His Princess didn't want anyone else. She only wanted him.

He felt the whisper of her fingers against his shoulder, just barely grazing the fabric of his sweater. Shakily, he inhaled, turning to look down on her. But he was surprised to find that her expression was one of confusion once again. As soon as she touched him, her brow pinched. Something vague flooded across her features. As if he'd said something she didn't understand. Something that surprised her.

But Kylo hadn't said a word.

"You've had your heart broken," she breathed suddenly. "You lost someone."

At first, Kylo didn't react. Because he didn't even register what she'd said to him. He didn't even know what she meant. But then, the understanding hit him. And he felt the blood slowly drain from his face.

"What did you say?" he breathed.

"There was someone before me. A girl. You loved her...but it's complex. Different."

Kylo didn't move an inch. He didn't even breathe. He just stared back into her eyes, pupils blown with shock and lips parted in surprise. He didn't even know if he was furious or hurt, every emotion was simmering lowly in his gut, mixing and battling with each other to the point where Kylo couldn't even discern what he felt.

Finally, a stream of air kicked from his chest. Kylo did nothing but take a single step back from the girl as he spoke. "You will never mention this to me again," he breathed.

He watched as her features flooded with disappointment, and she took a step back too. Only then did she seem to realize what had happened. Only then did Kylo see a flicker of recognition and clarity on her features—recognition of what she'd done.

She's seen into his mind again. And she hadn't even had to try to do it.

Kylo watched for a few moments as she tried to put the pieces together, tried to understand how was it possible for her to feel his emotions as if they were her own.

But he didn't wait for her to figure it out. She was still wracking her mind for an explanation when Kylo shoved himself past her, brushing Princess's shoulder carelessly as he marched out of the room.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Admittedly, you were hurt by Kylo Ren.

You thought you had really connected with him that night. You certainly had on a physical level. But even after that—in the training room, before you'd accidentally seen his mind, or rather, _felt_ his mind, things felt different. He'd felt more tender. Still rigid and hard to reach, but more relaxed, somehow. More open.

Plus, he'd already insisted on training you. He should have expected your powers to present themselves in strange ways. He'd told you that very night that he would be there to guide you. That you could talk to him. Trust him. And now he was giving you the cold shoulder at the first sign of your abilities?

For a long time the following morning, you just sat in bed, shaking your head in disbelief and confusion. You had way too much on your mind, and there wasn't much to do. Finally, you decided that Gil could take you on a walk along the cliffside.

And then, out of nowhere, for no reason, you were hit with a better idea.

You scrambled to get ready, asking your new handmaids to bring you something you could move in. They pulled something from your closet, stripped you from your nightclothes, and then dressed you in a tight, black trousers and a billowy white tunic. One of them clasped a black, leather belt around your waist while the other helped you into long, leather gloves that stretched past your elbows. The finishing touch was tall, leather boots that stretched up your calves.

Today wasn't the day for gowns and high heels.

You practically stumbled into the hallway to find Gil, which startled him. But then he saw what you were wearing, and his expression melted from surprise into straight-up concern.

"So, I had an idea," you told him.

"Uh-oh."

"I want to do more training."

"You don't need more training. You're a good fighter, and Master Ren is the best teacher in the galaxy."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm good with a blaster and throw a sword in my hand, and I'll be fine. That's exactly what I mean. I can handle myself in a fight, and I can handle myself in a room full of politicians. I'm educated, I'm strong-"

"Are we just going to stand here and talk about how great you are?"

"But I realized there's one area where I'm completely hopeless, and I thought it would be fun to learn. Something that you could teach me."

Gil's brows knit together in confusion. A few moments later, the realization set in. "No," he told you firmly, taking a step back. "Absolutely not. There's no way on Naboo that I'm teaching you to fly."

"Please!" you asked, grinning, gripping his arm. "Come on! What if the palace is attacked by evil rebels and I'm forced to evacuate and thrown on a ship but then there's an explosion, and by some miracle, I'm the only survivor, and I have to deploy the escape pod thingy, but oh wait! I have absolutely no idea what to do! And then the Empress is dead, and it's all your fault. Don't you want to avoid that, Gil?"

He sighed loudly, muffled underneath his mask.

"Come on," you said again, softer this time. "Look, I just want to protect myself. And I want to learn. I'm bored and lonely, and Gil, you were the pilot for the kriffing Knights of Ren. I couldn't possibly learn from someone better."

He still looked hesitant, but as expected, he seemed to swell with pride a little bit. You hoped his words had struck them as deeply as you intended, though it wouldn't be an easy decision for him to make. And it would be risky. Gil sighed again, looking over his shoulder, lowering his voice when he spoke to you again. "Master Ren wouldn't approve," he murmured. "And he trusts me. He trusts me not to go behind his back."

"Exactly," you said, grinning from ear to ear. "That's why he'll never guess if you do." 


	16. Ready to Serve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! It's Christmas for me today but no matter what you all celebrate, I hope you're staying safe and being festive however you can. I just wanted to take the opportunity to say that a year ago today I saw Rise of Skywalker, and days later posted Hurt Me Harder as a direct consequence. Over the past year, the love and support my readers have shown me is still something that I can hardly even wrap my brain around. I never expected it but I'm so so grateful. So thank you very much for the best gift I could ever ask for. Love and best wishes to all of you.
> 
> Drumroll please for Cody Fern as Moff Oberon, as well as Dacre Montgomery as Evander (about time I announce that one.)
> 
> Outfit: Ann Demeulemeester fall 2018 look 21 
> 
> Warnings: previous warnings about intense, rough sex apply. It's going to get intense very quickly so please don't read if that's triggering for you.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Gil had dropped off his helmet and uniform into his room to change into something less conspicuous; funny how actually showing his face was the best way to keep people from recognizing him. People had truly come to know the man behind the mask--and that was the case of _all_ of the Knights of Ren. That was the case for Kylo, too. Their infamy was linked to their anonymity. You supposed the less human they seemed, the more they'd be feared.

So it was strange making your way to the hangar with a maskless Gil. And as soon as you'd arrived, he yanked you out of sight. He led you towards the line of TIE fighters, walking briskly and with purpose, somewhat hidden behind cargo boxes and bigger ships, hoping to avoid being spotted.

"Master Ren's gonna kill me," he murmured for the thousandth time, finally landing in front of one of the vessels. Cautiously glancing over his shoulder, he opened the access hatch. "Hurry up," he told you, climbing inside.

"Don't we need helmets and stuff?"

Hastily, he shook his head, lowering himself into the seat and spreading his legs a bit. "This is an advanced model. It has full life support systems. No helmet needed. Now hop in."

You knit your brow. "Where, exactly?"

"Where do you think? There's only one seat, isn't there?"

Your jaw fell open in sincere shock. Honestly, you didn't know what you'd expected.

"Today?" he quipped. "Before someone sees you, if you don't mind. I'd _love_ to keep my job."

Suddenly, you were rethinking everything. If Kylo found out about this, not only about flying, but about sitting on Gil's lap and going on a joyride...he _would_ kill you.

Gil cocked a brow. Moments ago, he appeared stressed at the possibility of getting caught. Now, detecting that same fear in _you,_ he seemed to perk up a bit. "I don't bite, Princess."

You opened your mouth to throw him a snide remark, but you couldn't think of one. Thankfully, you suddenly heard footsteps and voices nearby, so there wasn't even time to respond. Now more than ever, you were determined not to be seen by any pilots or 'troopers who could get word back to Ren about what you were up to. Without thinking, you leapt into the cockpit, and in the same second, Gil closed the hatch.

The ceiling was so low you couldn't stand, and you stumbled into Gil's lap before you could even process what was happening.

Stiff as a board, you tried to catch your breath. You'd thought this was a brilliant idea. Now, it dawned on you that maybe you were doing something wrong.

"Relax," he told you, leaning over from underneath your body to press a few buttons. You were comforted by the fact his focus was on the controls and not on you. But then, as if on cue, you felt his eyes glaze over you from behind. "Get comfortable," he murmured.

Your brows shot up, and you cleared your throat, settling back against him nonetheless. Being around Kylo made you feel safe and enveloped. Gil was built differently—lean and lithe. And you felt nervous sitting on his lap.

"This is how you steer. These are how you activate the deflector shield. This is the button that activates hyperdriver. _Do not. Touch. It,"_ Gil warned, peeking out from underneath and craning his neck to give you give best warning-look. "And on top of the controllers here are how you fire the canons. Don't touch those either."

"Got it."

"The only thing you need to touch today," he reiterated, "is the steering mechanism, here. I'm going to take you out of the hangar where we won't be seen, and we can do some low flying. I'm gonna let you steer, but I'm handling everything else. Twenty minutes max. _That's it._ "

"Right," you agreed, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, the thought of you flying directly into the cliffside felt like a real possibility.

You tried to steel yourself, but heard a gasp escape your throat when the craft lifted into the air. Yeah—this was definitely your most insane idea to date. You were white-knuckling the steering mechanism as the TIE fighter rose to its launch position and then, lifted off the ground.

"Relax," he breathed again, placing his hands over yours. "You're gonna need to be steady if we're going to get out of the hangar in one piece."

Whatever Gil was doing with the controls was leading the TIE fighter towards the exit.

"The 'troopers can see us leaving the hangar," you murmured, glancing out the window. "Are they going to report a TIE fighter deploying for no reason?"

"Stormtroopers don't ask questions," Gil told you plainly, voice devoid of emotion or care. "Besides, TIE fighters deploy all the time. After the riots, the Emperor thought it would be a good idea to give the citizens a bit of a reminder of the Order's fleet power. You know, fly low over a neighborhood or two to let them know we're still watching."

Your stomach twisted, but admittedly, you only stayed guilty for a few moments. Because directly after Gil's words hit your ears, you exited the hangar, and were met with the breathtaking landscape of Naboo, up close and personal.

"Gil," you gasped, whisping past a stunningly enormous tree, which at this point were few and far between. Still, you'd never been this close to the nature, to the sky—not like this. "This is amazing!" You steered towards the cliffs, and your stomach dropped as you plunged towards the sea below.

Swallowing down a scream, your eyes prickled as you held them wide open to stare at the water growing closer and closer, grinning from ear to ear.

"Pull up," he urged nonchalantly, gently guiding your hands to lift up on the steering mechanism, leveling the ship out above the water. You skirted over the waves, the TIE fighter propelling towards the horizon. He released your hands. They trembled a bit as they steered, but with Gil beside you, or _under_ you, you were starting to think you were actually getting the hang of this.

"So...theoretically, if I wanted to fire one of the cannons..."

He glanced towards the rear. The castle _was_ far behind you now, and it was only getting farther away with every second that passed. Gil sighed. "Fine," he murmured.

Your thumbs pressed down on the buttons, and two consecutive blasts shot from the canons underneath the cockpit, one after the other. You squealed in delight, staring in awe at the green jets that reflected above the water as they rapidly disappeared into the horizon.

Gil chucked from behind you. Keeping your hands steady, you turned to look back at him, a wide smile plastered on your lips.

He softened, smiling too. But it was a gentle one. For once, he didn't look like he had something mischievous up his sleeve.

"Turn back around," he warned with a chuckle.

You gasped but did as he said, staring out at the line where the sea met the sky.

"Gil...thank you. I know I said I wasn't going to be too much trouble for you. I'm sorry if I am."

"Better you do it with me than go off and try to do it yourself."

Long story short, Gil let you fly for longer than twenty minutes. And he even gave you a run-down of all the other controls, explaining how the ship operated like he was explaining the back of his hand. Apparently, it was a Sith TIE Fighter. That was strange to hear, and you felt dirty for something built by the Sith—but it wasn't as if you'd ever use the vessel to hurt anyone. It had full life support systems and full 360-degree rotation, which Gil did _not_ let you try. But he did tell you how, in case there would be a next time.

Your mood had changed when you steered Gil and yourself back to the hangar. It seemed that Gil's had too. You felt on top of the world. This time, instead of trying to hide behind cargo boxes and you ran through the hangar trying to remain unseen, you and Gil were a mess of giggles as you darted towards the exit, your hand clasping his arm.

Once you were safely back in the corridors of the palace, Gil eyed you, smile plain on his face. "How about some lunch?"

You nodded eagerly. "Let's go to the dining room. I don't feel like staying cooped up in my room." In all honesty, you felt way too good to be hidden away by yourself.

The two of you swung by Gil's room so he could change back into his uniform and helmet; if he'd been recognized without his gear, milling about the castle while on duty, he would have been in a world of trouble with Ren. For doing something you weren't supposed to be doing, it was practical. But now that you'd be in the common spaces, it was a recipe for disaster. On the way back from his quarters, you were walking towards the royal dining hall next to a fully helmeted and uniformed Gil.

But you were so caught up in conversation, eyes glued to Gil like the smile glued on your face, that you barely even saw the man that was suddenly in your path.

You noticed him at the last moment, jolting to a stop as you nearly collided by an Order official in a black uniform. Gil hadn't noticed either, and ripped his gaze away from you to stare at the him in surprise.

Moff Oberon.

You almost didn't recognize him. You hadn't seen him up close many times, and you'd never had a conversation with him. It dawned on you that while you were keeping tabs on the Order officials, you shouldn't make that obvious. So you settled with pretending like you didn't know who he was.

"Princess," the man greeted.

The Moff was a lower ranking official. Usually, your duties only required you to speak to the _Grand_ Moff, who ranked above Oberon. Oberon was handsome, pale and blond, a bit ghostly looking. Beautiful, but somehow made you feel unsettled. Involuntarily, you took a step closer to Gil.

"Moff Oberon," he said, bowing slightly at the waist and extending a gloved hand. "I report to the Grand Moff, Your Highness, proudly at your service."

Your brows twitched in surprise as you slipped your hand into his and he brought it to his lips, placing a kiss to your knuckles without breaking your gaze. And holding it for several more moments. Until-

"A moment alone with the Princess, if you will?" Oberon asked, head slowly turning to Gil, holding your gaze for as long as possible.

Gil glanced between you and Oberon. For once, he looked like he wasn't sure what to do.

"Respectfully, that's an order," Oberon breathed with a tight smile.

You'd seen Gil annoyed on plenty of occasions, especially since you were usually the once annoying him. But you had never sensed him to be genuinely stricken with anger. Not until now.

In the same second that Gil twitched forward, you laid a gentle hand on his chest. "That's alright," you told him, eyes never leaving the Moff. "It would be an honor to speak with Moff Oberon, and I'm sure I'm in perfectly capable hands. Gil?"

His head twitched towards yours, and his jaw was set like stone. But after a tense silence, he conceded, inhaling as he pounded around the corner, out of sight.

When you turned back to the Moff, his eyes were scanning over your body. Involuntarily, you felt yourself raise your chin.

"Forgive me. I'm surprised by your gear."

"Gil and I went on a hike this morning," you explained—a lie. "Forgive _me,_ but Naboo's terrain is more treacherous than one might expect. Hardly the place for high heels and floor-length gowns."

"Hardly indeed," he said—that kriffing smile again. How was it that Pryde, Admiral Verse, the Grand Moff, Oberon—virtually _every official_ in the entire Order—looked like they had a stick up their ass?

At least Oberon wasn't a chore to look at, though. You had to give him that.

"I wanted to offer my congratulations," the Moff said, lifting his chin.

"My congratulations?"

His brow pinched, his face reeking of faux-confusion. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the little performance. "I thought His Imperial Majesty would have told you. The council has selected a date from your wedding."

"The council? Aren't I _on_ the council?"

"You're a valued ambassador, Your Highness, but some of the matters pertaining to the innermost functions of the Order are made exclusively by the highest-ranking officials."

"Hm," you murmured, tasting something sour in your mouth. You knew that there were plenty of Imperial matters that went on under your nose; Kylo Ren didn't trust you _that_ much. But hadn't he said you were to be an advisor? Weren't you supposed to be included in non-classified discussions?

You shook the thought away. _That_ was a matter for you and Ren to discuss. So you turned back to the Moff. "So, what did you say about my wedding?"

"You're to be married at the end of the month."

"The end of the..." you stared, your mind flooding with confusion before you realized: " _that's next week_."

"Indeed," he said, face gleaming with amusement. Your stomach twisted, and then plummeted to your feet. "Don't worry yourself," he said, noticing your expression. "You'll sign a paper or two. Smile for some ambassadors. It will be nothing more than an official matter," he stared at you, as if to hammer in the point. "And then, of course, a gala in celebration."

Your eyes narrowed. Suddenly, you didn't care whatever else the Moff was saying.

You just cared about the thought that no one on this so-called council had told you about your wedding date—which was a kriffing week away.

Not even your husband-to-be.

You gave the Moff and stiff nod, and thanked him for his time, all while barely managing to hold his gaze. Then, you found yourself pounding down the corridor until you found Gil.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

When you and Gil went to lunch, you found that you were hardly able to eat. There was far too much on your mind, not to mention that Oberon had completely rubbed you the wrong way. So after you ate, you had to ignore Gil's protestations as you decided to hunt down the Emperor.

The castle was huge and Kylo was a bit of an enigma—private about his day-to-day functions. Even Gil wasn't sure where he was at every given moment.

And a part of you felt guilty—Gil kept trying to talk to down, to comfort you, to tell you that Kylo deciding on a date for your wedding and failing to tell you wasn't personal as you tore through the corridor. You appreciated the gesture, but in the moment, you were so spurred on by anger and confusion that you couldn't even stop to hear him out.

You had to ask no less than three Stormtroopers were to find Kylo. And when you finally found out he was in his apartments (more specifically, working in his study) you had to find his quarters.

You'd never been there before. In fact, you'd never really sought out Kylo on your own volition. He'd always been the one to seek _you_ out. So you knew since he was the one pulling all the strings, since he always insisted on being the one in control, he wasn't going to be happy to see you.

And you didn't give a fuck.

You arrived at Kylo's quarters, which, _of course,_ were flanked with six Sith Troopers. You planted yourself in front of them, ignoring Gil's protestations.

"I need to see the Emperor," you snapped.

"He's working, Your Highness."

"Excellent. Tell him his fiancé needs to speak with him _now_."

Two of the 'troopers exchanged nervous glances. Then, one of them cleared his throat as two others opened the doors. "This way, Princess."

At least they were treating you with more respect. A few weeks ago, if you'd demanded to be taken to the Emperor, the 'troopers would have laughed in your face. Now, one of them was marching you through Kylo's new apartments.

His new quarters were like the rest of the castle: that strange but somehow fitting mixture of archaic embellishment and clean, sleek metal.

Kylo's quarters were significantly darker than the rest of the castle; he'd limited the lighting down to a minimum. The walls were the same pale sandstone that constructed the rest of the palace, the floor a deep, reflective dark blue-green. The walls were bare with nothing but subtle gold embellishments, barely visible under the low lamplight. Everything in the room was mostly platinum, low teal light emitting from strange high-tech furniture pieces.

It was minimal, but everything in the room was highly advanced. Exactly what you'd expect from Kylo.

There was a large set of sandstone double-doors, and a smaller entrance to another room. That was where the 'trooper was headed. You continued to follow him as he motioned that was where the Emperor was.

"Please wait while I announce your presence," the 'trooper told you stiffly. Cautiously, he raised his fist to knock on the door.

And you burst right through it, too angry to even think about the consequences.

The first thing you noticed was that Kylo's helmet was off. He was sitting at a desk, pouring over reports on a datapad. 

And since you'd had burst into his study, you'd expected him to be immediately angry with you for entering without permission.

What he gave you instead was entirely more unsettling.

Kylo's eyes slowly lifted from his work, and his brow was furrowed as he met your gaze. For a minute, your breath stalled in your throat—because he _truly_ looked like a predator eyeing prey caught in a trap, mulling over whether or not he wanted to kill it.

But then, his eyes ventured lower. He took one look at you in your piloting gear and leaned back in his chair. 

His eyes flickered towards the 'trooper. "Has anyone told you that you're excellent at your job?" Kylo deadpanned.

"M-my apologies, Your Majesty. I-she-"

You turned to the 'trooper, and saw that he was averting Kylo's gaze. You knew it wasn't as if Kylo never let him saw anyone without his helmet, but you knew it was his preference to keep it on around Order Personnel, generally speaking.

Kylo chewed the insides of his cheeks, pursing his lips. "Oh, I know what she did. Leave us."

The 'trooper practically scurried from the room. And though you were furious with Kylo, you were starting to feel guilty about bursting in unannounced—solely because his guards would be to blame for your defiance.

"Don't you even think about punishing that 'trooper. I came in here on my own volition; it wasn't his fault."

"He'll be reconditioned for a week for allowing someone to enter into my quarters without my consent."

You seethed; you'd come here to yell at him about a completely different matter. Already, you were furious for an added reason. You hadn't meant for anyone to get in trouble because of you—but you _had_ to speak with him. And you shouldn't need permission for that.

Kylo could see an argument forming in your mind, and he preemptively lifted his chin in response. "I suggest you tell me why you're _really_ here. My patience with you is very thin as it is."

Gods above, he was still pissed at you for accidentally reading his mind in the training room—you could tell. And you were fighting every impulse telling you to lean over his desk and wring his neck.

"I was just wondering when you were going to tell me that you set a date for the wedding."

Kylo blinked. But he said nothing.

"I guess I'm just a little confused," you said, pacing around the room, noticing how your voice was growing louder and how you couldn't seem to stop it. "Because you've said to me more than once that I'm going to be your most trusted advisor, and now I learn that there's a council of _other_ advisors deciding when I'm going to get married, and no one thought to tell me about it."

"Someone _did_ tell you about it. Just now, it seems. I didn't realize you'd need more notice, did you have somewhere else to be?" His words held the shadow of a joke, but his tone was dripping with malice. You clenched in fear, but didn't allow it to deter you.

"I'm just saying. As the bride, it's a little frustrating that I'm only hearing about the date of my wedding when it's only a handful of days away. I thought things were changing around here. I thought you people were actually starting to respect me."

"You _are_ respected," he told you evenly. "And it seems perfectly reasonable that you were given a week's notice to-"

"A week?" you sputtered in frustration. "That's not enough time for me to even process what's going on. What if I'm not _ready-"_

"Not ready?" Kylo echoed, jaw nearly immovably tight. "Not ready to serve the Order?"

Slowly, Kylo was standing, eyeing you intensely. Only then did you realize that you misspoke.

"No," you stammered, shaking your head. "I just meant that-that I m-might need more time to pre-"

"I thought you'd learned not to question my authority," he hissed.

"I'm not questioning anything," you argued, furious. 

"However soon I choose to inform you of _anything_ is my decision. If you're 'not ready' to serve your Emperor, perhaps I should cancel this arrangement altogether."

"No," you retorted--far too quickly. You swallowed heavily as Kylo narrowed his gaze on you, chest rising and falling steadily as he decided what he was going to do with you.

"I give you one little ounce of praise," he murmured darkly, stalking around his desk to slowly approach you, towering above you like a dense shadow. "And suddenly, you're bursting into my private office unannounced like you run my empire." His hand roughly enveloped your jaw, wrenching your face upwards. "I think I need to remind you of your place." Your brain went fuzzy as he inhaled deeply, his lips hovering only inches away from the side of your face.

Despite wanting to stay strong, you whimpered.

"On the desk," he snapped.

"Wh-what?" you breathed.

Kylo didn't have the patience to ask you for a second time. Huffing in frustration, he grabbed you roughly by the hair, spun you around, and forced you downwards. Your right cheek and palms hit the desk with an echoing thud, and you could feel his datapad pressing against your chest.

You grunted in discomfort, but found yourself wriggling your hips against him as he loomed over you from behind, hand still laced in your hair. The next thing you felt was Kylo's hand snaking over your ass. You groaned, now dead-set on having something you knew you shouldn't want—not when you were mad at him. But it felt entirely out of your control.

"Fuck," you whispered, then felt a sharp smack to your ass. You winced in pain, releasing a yelp.

"You're dressed like a fucking whore," he groaned. "Walking around like you're trying to get fucked."

"No," you stammered. "Gil and I went for a walk-"

You gasped as Kylo very suddenly gripped your hips and carelessly spun you around so your ass was on the desk and your eyes were locked with his. Then, the thrusted your legs apart, stepping forward so his hips were flush with your crotch. " _Did_ you."

"I don't need to explain anything to you," you quipped. "I wore something I could move in. If that makes you feel _threatened_ -"

His hand clamped around your throat, and the words died on your tongue, brows lifting in surprise.

"Do you want to find out how threatened I feel by _Gil?"_ Kylo growled. 

You didn't move. With his hand around your throat, you couldn't speak, but even if you could, you couldn't _think,_ either, and wouldn't have been able to form a coherent thought if you tried. All you could do was stare at Kylo with wide and waiting eyes as he reached for your trousers, fingers flying to your pussy and ribbing the fabric open with a loud tear.

You gasped, noting how the sound seemed to echo through the room. As soon as he'd torn a hole through your pants, his hand was back around your neck.

"Take off that fucking belt," he growled.

With trembling fingers, you did. But just as you moved to throw it to the side, Kylo stopped you.

"Hand it to me."

You froze in fear, trying to register what he said. Then, you tried to think of all the things he might want to use it for. But his gaze was only growing more and more daunting by the minute. Trembling, you passed him the belt. He folded it in his hand, then nodded to your tunic.

"Remove it," he ordered.

Still shaking, you untied the fabric around your neck, then lifting the shirt above your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you in your bra.

He didn't even need to verbalize his next instruction. With a simple lift of his brow, the order was loud and clear. You reached behind your back and unclasped the undergarment, dropping it to the floor.

Then, you moved to take off your long, leather gloves.

"Leave them," Kylo ordered quickly. Your breath caught in your throat, but slowly, you nodded, placing your palms gingerly back on the surface of the desk.

It left you in skin-hugging leggings, knee-high boots, and black, leather gloves that stretched to your arms. And absolutely nothing else.

"Stand," he told you. You did.

You watched breathlessly as Kylo, belt folded in hand, took two impossibly slow steps towards you, eyes drinking in your body.

And then, reaching behind you, swept his arm over the surface, sending his datapad and folders and gadgets flying off the tabletop to clatter onto the floor. You gasped as he forced you backwards so your ass was back on the desk, legs parted and wrapped around his waist.

He held the belt up to your face, the folded portion of the leather skimming the surface of your cheek. A silent threat. You averted your gaze, trembling with fear, but simultaneously, with excitement, as the leather slid down your jaw.

"You've been such a bad girl," he murmured. "But you responded well to spanking once, if I remember correctly."

"Kylo," you moaned, wriggling against him, not sure if you wanted him to hurt you or fuck you.

"What's that, Princess? You think you deserve a second chance?"

Whimpering, you nodded, deciding the idea of Kylo Ren's forceful arm whipping you gods-knew-where with his belt was something you weren't sure you were ready for.

He sighed, nodded. And then, as if conceding, he slowly lowered the belt.

Then, the moment after, he raised his arm nearly at the speed of light, belt suddenly raised at the side of your face, ready to strike.

You gasped so hard it was nearly a scream, clamping your eyes shut, bracing for the blow, but it never came.

Not on your face, at least.

Gasping again, this time, your head tilted back in pleasure as you felt the curve of the belt slowly, _gently_ sliding up your pussy.

"I wouldn't hurt you like that, Princess," Kylo murmured. But the amusement in his voice wasn't lost on you. He was _enjoying_ this. Feeding off your fear.

Your eye cracked open, and you watched as Kylo palmed his erection through his pants. Then, with little to know effort, he unzipped them and pulled his cock free with one hand. Your bare chest was heaving with air.

Kylo seemed to notice, jerking himself off with one hand as he wrapped the other arm around your middle, pulling himself against you, lips diving to your chest. You could feel and hear his muffled, desperate breaths against your tits, breaths that quickly turned to moans as he sucked at one of your nipples. Lazily, he dragged his tongue across the areola, and your legs trembled in response. Still touching himself, he kissed and tongued your breast until he was satisfied enough, only to move onto the other one. Your nipples were wet, growing painfully hard and sensitive as Kylo feasted on them for all they were worth. And each slide of his tongue, every wet, sloppy, firm kiss sent a wave of pleasure straight through to your core.

He hummed in satisfaction, drawing away and giving each breast a light slap with the belt. You jolted with each one, but found your legs wrapping farther around his waist.

His free hand found your neck again, fingers wrapping around your throat. His thumb forced your chin upwards, and he swallowed your gaze.

"If you aren't ready to serve your Emperor, I suggest you tell me. _Now._ "

"I am," you stammered.

"You are?" he echoed, brows lifted. "Then I think you should show me."

Feverishly, you nodded, trying to nod against the strain of his hand. "Please," you begged.

"You dirty fucking whore," he growled, squeezing the head of his cock. You looked down, admiring the pre-cum glistening on the tip. You may have been his dirty little whore, but he was aching for it just as much as you were.

But Kylo didn't waste any more time. Lining himself up to the hole he'd ripped through your leggings, he shoved aside your panties and thrusted into you.

You gasped, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer. You sighed blissfully against his ear, growing warm at the rapturous pressure in your cunt, feeling him slide easily through your wetness. You were practically dripping for him already.

"Kylo," you breathed, holding him tighter. As mad as you'd been at him when you'd walked into the room, and as mad as he was with you for reading his memories _and_ for interrupting him, you preferred things to be the way they were the other night on the balcony. When he was quiet and almost caring, and then when he fucked you into oblivion and then held you against his chest all night.

Yes, you'd been angry.

But you didn't want to be angry anymore.

However, it looked like Kylo Ren had no intention for this to be a make-up session. He ripped himself from your arms, and to your shock, slipped your belt around your neck, fisting it at the back of your head to keep it tight.

"I said I wouldn't hit you. Never said I wouldn't choke you."

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you wheezed out an exhale, the strain of the belt against your neck cutting off your airway. Already, you could feel your blood beginning to drum against the sides of your head as Kylo kept the reigns tight at the base of the back of your neck, arm strong and steady as he fucked you.

" _Fuck,"_ you choked, the sound strained and pathetic as it tried to escape your crushed windpipe. This only seemed to drive Kylo on further, and his hips began to snap against yours with more urgency.

"Fuck, you look..." he breathed. " _oh, fuck._ " Reaching with his free hand, he yanked one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder. Immediately, you felt him pound into you much deeper, and your lips fell open in pleasure.

Kylo thrusted roughly into you, each roll of his hips smacking loudly and obscenely against your skin. You tried to cry out but the sound was barely a whistle. And Kylo only tightened his grip.

You could feel your own cum drenching the insides of your thighs, and Kylo was sliding in and out of your stretched walls with ease, your arousal slick around his cock. He groaned at the sensation.

"Fuck," he growled. "Can you feel how wet you are, little slut? Can you feel how fucking turned on you are for me?"

Whimpering, you choked out a sad little " _yes_."

"Fuck, you look sexy like this. Trying to scream my name. _Shit._ " He slammed his hips against you, and you squeezed your eyes shut in both pleasure and agony, your whole face contorting as Kylo pounded you without mercy.

"So many fucking things I want to do to you. So many ways to punish my bad girl. You look so fucking good with that belt around your neck, but I think you look better gagging on my cock."

You sizzled at the memory, whimpering and blubbering, lips trembling with desire and pain. It was hard for you to believe that you'd come here to try to tell him off. Reaching for his hips in an attempt to offset the pain, you found yourself clawing at him.

" _Kylo_ ," you begged, voice strained and practically inaudible.

"What's that?" he asked, leaning in closer. "I can't seem to hear you."

 _Fucking asshole,_ you thought—or you would have, if your brain was functioning. As it happened, there was nothing in your mind but your need for release and your need for air.

"You think you deserve to breathe?"

You nodded, eyes prickling with tears. " _Please,"_ you mouthed.

"How about now?" he asked. Instantly, you felt the familiar sensation of the Force swirling around your clit, and your body ascended to a whole new level of pleasure. Warmth enraptured your core, and the sizzling nerves paired with the deep pressure inside of you was already driving you dangerously close to the edge.

"You think you deserve to cum _and_ breathe?" he growled. "I think you deserve to fucking choke."

Your lips parted, the sheer overwhelming pleasure driving a strained scream. It ripped its way out of your throat, feeling like broken glass shredding your windpipe.

One of your hands snaked into his hair, fisting around his dark, thick locks. He growled roughly, leaning down to place a sloppy kiss against your lips, which you didn't even bother to close. Instantly, you searched for his tongue with yours, fighting the urge to keep your mouth against his as your body began to wrack with trembles.

"If I let you breathe, are you going to be a good girl?"

Whimpering, you nodded, feeling hot tears spill over your cheek.

"You know what I'll do to you if you're bad."

"Yes," you wheezed. "Kylo, please."

Finally, he slipped the belt out from around your neck and threw it to the side, where it clattered to the floor with the rest of his belongings. Instantly, you sucked down a greedy gasp of air, letting your head fall back as Kylo fucked you.

Lowering himself so your back was flat against the desk, he pressed his middle against yours, thrusting his hips with more intensity.

Your airway was free, so there was no hope in holding back the screams that began to rip from your throat. The Force was still whirling around your clit, and the pressure you felt around it was completely physical. Tangible. You'd always thought the Force was an _idea._ A belief system. Now, you saw it in a whole new light. You saw it for what it was.

Something that could reach out and touch you.

You knew you didn't stand a chance.

"Fuck!" you cried, gripping Kylo's hair in your gloved fingers. He was propped on his forearms on either side of you, thrusting his hips like his life depended on it. "Fuck, you're so good. You're so good, oh my fucking-"

" _Fuck yes_ ," he growled, face venturing downwards until his lips were once again at your breasts. He reached a hand up to grip your hair as he tongued one of your tits, lips ungentle as he sucked against your skin. He squeezed them together, fingers dipping greedily into the round, soft flesh, hard enough to leave marks. And suddenly, every part of your body was sizzling. You could feel the beginnings of sweat drenching your skin—you were wet _everywhere_ , your hairline growing damp, your face still drenched in tears. You could feel a hot, angry flush breaking out across your chest. Looking down on yourself, you realized you looked like you'd just stepped out of a sauna, or sprinted a mile.

It felt dirty, but it felt good as fuck.

" _Kylo_ ," you groaned, thrusting your hips upwards to meet his, to take him deeper. Your grip around his hair pinned him to your chest, where he was still feverishly working his tongue to suck at your tits. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum."

Suddenly, he ripped himself away from your chest so his face was back in front of yours. With blown pupils, you stared at the spit glistening on his chin and lips, a clear indication of how intensely he'd worked on your tits. You groaned in pleasure.

Without giving you a moment to breathe, suddenly, Kylo was pressing his fingers to your lips. And you were so close to the edge that you knew you'd do whatever filthy thing he commanded.

"Suck," Kylo ordered.

He didn't have to tell you twice. You wasted no time whatsoever in wrapping your lips taught around his middle and ring fingers, tongue eagerly tasting the leather that coated his hand. It was warm and slick. You moaned at you sucked him back to the knuckle, and he hissed in response.

"Such a pretty mouth," he growled, snapping his hips viciously against yours. He began to thrust his fingers in time with his hips, undoubtedly imaging you taking his cock, instead. You hummed around his fingers, feeling him stuff you in two places and buzzing at the thought.

One of your legs was still on top of his shoulder. It was beginning to shake violently, a clear sign of your impending orgasm.

Kylo teased the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. It wasn't the best moment for him to add a third finger.

He did anyway.

You sputtered as Kylo forced in his index finger, your lips stretching around three large digits. He forced them back so your lips enveloped the base of the knuckle. You gargled and gagged, but Kylo only hummed eagerly at the sound.

"You're a little fucking whore," he growled. But then, he withdrew his fingers, pressing his forehead against yours. "And you're all mine."

"Kylo," you whimpered, both legs beginning to tremble, your entire body beginning to stutter with deep, seizing shakes. As if every inch of you was vibrating. "Fuck, Kylo, I'm-"

"Cum for me," he growled, hips smacking against the backs of your thighs at a steady pace but with an unforgiving force. "Cum for me, Princess."

Your lips parted and you released a shaky scream as you let your orgasm overtake you, bursting through your body. Lost in pleasure, your head turned to the side, eyes closed in bliss. You felt Kylo's forehead press against your temple as he smacked his hips with a few particularly rough thrusts. He released a growl, the sound reverberating against the curve of your neck. Your pussy fluttered as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, and you knew that he was cumming in the same instant. He grunted through his orgasm as you cried out through yours, your body working itself through the crippling waves of pleasure. You rolled your hips to meet his until finally, everything began to simmer.

Gasping for air, your body stilled along with Kylo's thrusts. He'd reduced them to a slow rolling pace, his hips rocking gently against you as he worked himself through the last of his pleasure, forehead still pressed against your temple.

Blissfully, you sighed, eyes fluttered shut. Kylo released a shaky inhale, and with trembling lips, placed a kiss to your hairline.

You realized you were gripping his biceps; you didn't know for how long. All you knew as your mind started to come back to you, was that the two of you were clinging to each other.

Finding the bravery to open your eyes, you let your gaze center on him—only to find that he was already looking at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to read his face, but it was too difficult. As ever, Kylo was _impossible_ to read, staring at you with a blank expression with a nearly indiscernible curiosity flickering behind his eyes.

You exhaled, air rattling on its way out. Kylo's chest was still heaving against yours as together, you caught your breath.

"I should interrupt you more often," you breathed.

Kylo's face broke into a smirk. And in an instant, you knew he wasn't angry with you anymore.

"I might allow that."

You smiled widely, even though you felt exhausted. Running a hand slowly through his hair, you didn't care that you were tired. All you cared about was how it felt to be with him.

But too soon, he pulled away, stuffing himself back into his pants and making himself presentable once again. Kylo's smirk didn't relent as he stared down at you, still lying half-naked on top of the desk. He reached down for your tunic before stepping forward and gently handing it out to you. His eyes locked with yours.

"I have too much to do right now to discuss the matter that's concerning you."

Tunic clasped in your hands, instinctively, you opened your mouth to argue.

He held up a hand. "You'll come back to my quarters after nightfall."

You stared up at him with side, waiting eyes. "And we'll talk about it then?" you pressed.

Kylo's eyes flickered down towards your bare chest. And you realized that he was smirking again. "We can talk about whatever you want," he murmured, looking you in the eye once again. "We can talk all night long if you'd like to."

You stomach swam with warmth and butterflies, and you didn't argue as you dressed back into your gear. But you stopped short of the door handle, turning back to Kylo, who was already sitting himself back down at his desk, having picked up the datapad and other materials he'd thrown to the floor in the heat of his passion.

"I think we're forgetting something?"

His brow knit just barely in the slightest amount of curiosity. "What's that?"

You scoffed a little. "Um, you tore a hole through my pants? How in Naboo am I supposed to get back to my room?"

Kylo smirked, gripping either side of his chair.

"Keep your legs closed while you walk."


	17. Nothing to be Nervous About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did somebody order a wedding dress? Zuhair Murad, Spring 19, look 49
> 
> Also, for the Knights' wedding drip, we're not talking suit and ties. Think anything from Rad Hourani's unisex Collection #7 for Fall/Winter 2011/12. I think this is what a "suit" would look like in the SW verse.

"Kylo— _oh my fucking gods. Right fucking there._ "

Earlier, Kylo had asked you to come see him that evening to talk about your concerns about the wedding. But funnily enough, when you'd gone to see him, you hadn't done much talking. In fact, you'd returned to his quarters every single night in the week following the incident in the study.

And it never started with talking.

Usually, it started with Kylo's hands grasping for your body as soon as you walked through the door. Or alternatively, if he was still working, you'd yank him out of his office and start kissing his neck until he gave into you, deciding you were more important, and his work would still be there in the morning.

You didn't remember how this particular evening had started. And you didn't care. Because currently, you were on your hands and knees on top of his mattress, pushing your ass back against him as he pounded into your cunt, fingers white-knuckling your hips to yank you to meet each thrust.

Your hair was thrown over one shoulder as you craned your neck to look up at him, eyes wide and pleading and expectant. He was biting down on his lower lip, brow drawn in focus as he fucked you as fast as his hips could move. The scar was still there—splintered through his lower abdomen on one side. But it looked better than ever. _Kylo_ looked better than ever.

And he never looked better than when he was fucking you.

"Kylo—I'm so close."

He wrapped a hand around your hair, wrenching you upright so his lips were at the shell of your ear. You could feel your ass bouncing against his thighs as he fucked you from behind. Not to mention the piercing waves of pleasure spearing your body.

"Want to feel you cum all over this cock, Princess. You're so pretty when you cum for me."

"Fuck!" you sputtered, feeling your body become overtaken by deep trembles. Your thighs quivered as Kylo's thrusts and the Force circling your clit plummeted you towards your orgasm, ass writing against Kylo's hips as you came forcefully with his cock inside you.

Kylo growled in response, eyes drinking you in as he admired your body—seized in pleasure. " _Fuck,"_ he hissed, releasing you and allowing you to collapse against the mattress. Pinning his hands on either side of your head, Kylo pressed his stomach against your back, holding your hips up enough so he could still pound into you without you having to be on all fours.

His pace quickly accelerated and you moaned and whimpered, knowing he was close. As if on cue, Kylo released himself inside of you with a growl, pumping you full of cum and biting into your shoulder. You loved how terrifyingly animalistic he sounded when he climaxed, and you loved the way he slowly rocked his hips against you as he came down from his high.

You were still trembling as he rolled off of you. He sighed heavily as he flopped onto his back. But you'd been doing this every night for a week, now, and you knew what to do when Kylo lied down. Struggling through your trembles, you weakly raised yourself enough to turn around and flop down onto his chest.

Immediately, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, stroking your bicep gently.

"Such a good girl," he breathed.

He was right—you _had_ been very, very good. Kylo hadn't given you much notice for the wedding. There wasn't anything either of you could do about that now. Regardless, you were about to marry him. And you weren't dreading it as much as you probably should have.

But then you reminded yourself that you weren't letting yourself feel guilty anymore. You were on your own mission now, and it was at your own pace. So as you nuzzled closer against him, you didn't feel bad.

You actually felt at peace.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, voice gravelly from exhaustion. Kylo worked long days and barely slept; being Emperor meant that his work consumed his life. And thank the gods there weren't currently any rebellions to quell, because then, he would _really_ never sleep. On top of all that, he always fucked you at a hundred and fifty percent energy.

Not that you were complaining.

You wiggled slightly within his arms, getting comfortable. With your cheek pressed to his chest, you felt you could have drifted off to sleep right then and there.

"Yeah," you whispered, not quite brave enough to look at him. You'd made strides with Kylo over the last week. You were fucking left and right, and even had some pleasant pillow-talk afterwards. And the two of you hadn't even fought once. It was slow-going, but it was progress. "Are you?"

You looked up at him to see that he was staring blankly up at the ceiling. You knew that to him, it wasn't even really a _wedding._ It was nothing but a political alliance. That was all it as intended to be. So you braced yourself, reminding yourself not to take his answer personally.

"Its nothing to be nervous about," he murmured, staring into your eyes.

You nodded, then averted your gaze. About as much as you'd expected.

"Kylo," you asked, shifting nervously.

He tensed underneath you, sensing your discomfort. He drew away, holding you gently by the arm, staring at you with an expression full of concern. "What is it?" he asked urgently, but softly.

You took a deep breath. You _really_ weren't trying to start a fight—especially not right before the wedding. But the two of you had had nothing but shallow (albeit pleasant) small-talk over the past week. While it was slowly helping solidify your relationship, you still had other things on your mind.

"Are you ever going to start training me again?" you asked cautiously.

Kylo exhaled, settling back against the pillows and giving your arm a light stroke, as if to tell you he wasn't angry with you for asking. "After the wedding. I didn't want you to have too much on your plate. As soon as it's out of the way, we will continue your lessons."

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut as you relaxed back against his body. Now, you truly felt calm and peaceful, satisfied to lie in his arms all night and drift off to sleep.

Maybe General Organa was onto something. Maybe she wasn't as crazy as you thought she was for thinking there was still hope for her son.

Because all things considered, you weren't actually dreading marrying him in the morning.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Turns out, Kylo was right. It was nothing more than signing a piece of paper. Literally.

Kylo turned to look as you as you walked into the observation deck. He was deep in conversation with the officiate and the high-ranking Order officials clambering for his attention. And instantly, you noticed that as Kylo's gaze caught yours, the people surrounding him didn't stop trying to talk to him.

But it was as if none of them were there. It was as if the room may as well have been empty as you approached Kylo's side, never once dropping his gaze as you crossed the room towards him.

His head tilted down to take you in—your face, your body, the gown you were wearing. At least you got to wear white—a stunning, beaded gown with sleeves that draped past your hands. Not exactly your dream wedding. As for the groom—well, you could have done worse.

"Hello," you murmured, trying to hide a smirk as you faked smoothing down your skirt.

"Good morning," he said tightly, voice rougher than you were used to through the vocodor.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, stifling a laugh. Raising your gaze, you stared at him, narrowing your eyes. It was hard to pretend like he hadn't absolutely fucked you into oblivion the night before, only to wake up and do it again that very morning.

"Your Imperial Majesty," the officiate said, bowing slightly and gesturing towards the large document laying on the table, detailing all the fine-print of the union of you and Kylo and your respective planets.

Stiffly, Kylo picked up the pen. It was strange to watch him sign on the black line, strange that the Order had chosen such an archaic means of solidifying your marriage when they were such a technologically advanced enterprise. You supposed they just wanted to make it official, put it on paper, make a show of it.

You signed your name next to Kylo's, above the name of your home-planet. You didn't read the details of the treaty; you'd actually read it a million times over prior to the wedding. And before you departed for the Steadfast in the first place, everyone in the Resistance took it upon themselves to remind you that it wasn't a real treaty. Because eventually, the Resistance would make their move, and none of it would matter.

After you set down the pen, the room erupted into applause, which was supremely awkward. _Kylo must hate this,_ you thought.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

The gala was held that afternoon in the throne room. Decorations were minimal to nonexistent. But there was one change that you hadn't anticipated.

A second throne.

You had no idea Kylo had ordered the installment of another one. You'd been in the throne room before. And because it had been built in accordance with the old monarchy of Naboo, there was only need for the one. Sometime between your arrival in Naboo and the wedding, the old throne had been demolished. Now, two stood in its place, both of them large and stony and gray. One was slightly smaller than the other, so it was clear which one was yours. But the fact that Kylo had ordered one to be built for you at all had stunned you to say the least.

Unfortunately, Kylo had been swept away by officials before anyone could say "you may now kiss the bride." But you knew it wasn't that kind of wedding, so you tried to brush the disappointment off your shoulders, reminding yourself that this was all for political advantages, and as far as said officials were concerned, there wasn't any place for romance.

But you couldn't ignore the way Kylo had glanced over his shoulder at you as he was whisked away to talk business and politics and planning. You held his gaze, too, until Gil appeared at your side, offering his arm to escort you to the throne room.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, handing you a flute of white wine once you'd arrived.

"I survived," you told him, taking a sip.

But already, you were searching the crowd for Kylo.

"Don't take it personally," he told you. "He has to get the politicians off his back. But after the gala, he's all yours. In a couple hours, you two will be on your way to Varykino."

"Varykino?" you asked. "The lake house estate?"

Gil sighed, pinching his brow. It was strange to see him out and about without his helmet, but apparently, Kylo had allowed all of his Knights to attend the festivities. Gil was dressed in a slick black suit, and notably, no helmet.

"Fuck," he murmured. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"You're an idiot," you laughed, taking a sip of wine, but giving him a look that told him you were only teasing.

"Maybe when he takes you, act surprised," he said. "I'm on thin ice as it is."

"I suppose that's my fault."

"You _are_ a little troublemaker," Gil said, smirking as he took a step closer to you. "Just like Master says you are."

"Does he?"

"He says you're a lot of things," he murmured.

Your smile faded and you stared wide-eyed up at Gil, not sure what to say. You thought of all the things Kylo might have told Gil. You thought of all the things you'd done, the things Kylo had urged you to do. Suddenly, you realized you were blushing heavily.

You downed your glass. "Get me another?" you asked, batting your lashes.

He gave you a look.

"Oh, come on. I'm the bride."

He sighed, taking your empty glass. "Sure thing, Princess."

Gil turned on his heel, leaving you alone. You eyed him as he walked towards the refreshment table, grinning as you watched him sulk at his bodyguard duties.

"Your Highness."

When you turned, there was a man standing next to you that you didn't recognize. He was tall, blonde, and obviously very, very strong, dressed in an imposing black suit and a long, dark robe.

"Do I know you?" you asked.

"Finor," he said, outstretching the free hand that wasn't holding a crystal class of Andoan white wine—the beverage you'd requested to be served.

"Oh, I _do_ know you," you realized eagerly. "I've heard all about you. You're the Knight that trains with Kylo."

He nodded, giving you a warm, if a little bit smug grin. "Which is why I haven't had the chance to introduce myself."

"Yeah. He trains like a madman. Day and night."

"That he does," he said, bringing your knuckles to his lips, holding your gaze as he did so.

Kriff. All of these men were going to be the death of you.

"So," Finor said, dropping your hand with the upmost gentleness. "Do you prefer "Mrs. Ren" or "Your Imperial Majesty?"

Despite yourself, you felt butterflies in your stomach at the sound of " _Mrs. Ren."_ It was the first time you'd ever heard your new name before. You tried to fight back the smile that involuntarily twitched onto your face, but you only half-succeeded.

"I'm not the Empress yet," you reminded him. "'Your Highness' is fine."

He hummed, tapping his wine glass. "True, you're not the Empress _yet._ But I imagine Master will try and ensure your coronation date comes as soon as possible."

"You're not bothering our bride, are you?" came a voice from behind you.

You turned, knowing exactly who it was before your eyes found him. Rharo was holding a large tankard of something that smelled like spaceship fuel. You knew for a fact whatever he was drinking wasn't being served; he'd brought it himself.

"Just wanted to offer you my congratulations. And to see if anyone would like to join me in a game of Emperors Cup," he said, pulling a stack of cards out from underneath his robe.

"I don't think my wedding is the time or place for a drinking game," you laughed, cocking a brow.

"True. We hardly need a repeat of what happened _last_ time we all drank together," Gil offered, shooting you a look, holding out a fresh glass of wine as he planted himself besides Finor. You took it with a nod of thanks.

"Marriage has made you boring already," Rharo grumbled, stuffing away his cards.

You bit back a laugh.

You spoke with the Knights for a while, but eventually, Rharo and Finor decided that stealing a bottle of Andoan white and sneaking off into the shadows was more appealing than a wedding reception filled with stuffy old men. You were sure Gil felt the same way, but as your bodyguard, he wasn't permitted to leave your side.

Not unless someone like Kylo had come to steal you away.

Which you never would have expected—until it happened.

You were engrossed in conversation with some painfully boring ambassador from Coruscant when you saw Kylo approach Gil from your peripheral. The Emperor leaned in closely, murmuring in the Knight's ear. You watched Gil pull away, looking somewhat somber as he nodded. No longer really paying attention to what the ambassador was saying, your mind went blank as you saw Kylo made a bee-line towards _you._

Your spine straightened up, going rigid. You half-expected him to stop and exchange pleasantries with the ambassador. But instead, he seized your wrist, removing the drink from your hand and setting it on a passing servant's tray, yanking you behind one of the large, red pillars that lined the entirety of the castle, in nearly every room.

Gasping as your back hit the stone, you watched in confusion as Kylo looked over his shoulder. The throne room was filled to the brim with eager attendants, each of them making solid attempts to hound the Emperor with congratulations in exchange for favors. But there was a door just behind the throne, only feet away.

Kylo peeked out behind the large red pillar to make sure you had a path to the exit. Then, he yanked you through the door behind, slipping into the backmost corridor before anyone realized either of you disappeared.

"Kylo," you hissed, keeping your voice at a whisper, not wanting to be discovered. "Where are we going?"

He ignored you, pounding down the hallway, his hand clasped around yours, until he pulled into a room on the righthand side.

You gasped as he shoved the door shut and slammed you up against it in a rapid, fluid motion, your fingers flying to grasp onto his biceps for support. That was when you realized how uneven and heavy his breathing was.

"I couldn't wait," he rasped, fingers flying to hike up the skirts of your wedding dress.

Your breath hitched as he lifted you, taking a few urgent steps to throw you onto a table against the righthand wall. With little more than a glance at your surroundings, you realized that you were in some kind of closet. But you didn't have much more time to look.

Because suddenly, Kylo's gloved hands were darting to tear down your panties, and before you even knew what you were doing, your fingers were rapidly working to unfasten his pants.

"Fuck," you breathed. You hadn't even realized how much you'd wanted him. It was as if you desire was always there, simmering lowly, always ready and waiting to burst forth. And every single time Kylo Ren managed to get you alone, you were putty underneath his fingertips.

Kylo groaned as he abruptly thrust himself into you, and you gasped with shock. You hadn't been prepared, but feeling him fill you to the brim was enough to sate and doubt or fear you had—even if only just. Kylo began to rock into you, the table beneath you creaking with each thrust. You bit into his shoulder, rolling your hips to meet his, your legs clenching around his waist.

You bloomed with heat, and your anxiety was pulling at the back of your mind. This was all happening so quickly, and you were so powerless to stop it. To resist. You listened to the muffled sounds of voices from the throne room on the other side of the wall. And somehow, it only spurred you on further. Plus, it was no match for the Force whirling around your clit, smothering you with pleasure.

Inhaling shakily, you drew away, and without thinking, your fingers flew to hit helmet. Already, your body was shaking, but your twitching fingers managed to find the release buttons on the sides of his mask.

While Kylo was still thrusting into you, you pulled off his helmet.

You forgot it in an instant, dropping to the floor as Kylo seized you in a smoldering kiss, moaning against your mouth as his hips picked up the pace. You whimpered, feeling yourself come undone far too soon. A part of your mind was still thinking about the throne room and all the people inside of it, undoubtedly wondering where the bride and groom had run off to.

But you didn't care.

"Kylo," you whined, squeezing his arms as your body clenched. He shuddered, and you curled your toes. "I'm close,"

His lips dove to your neck as he fucked you relentlessly, snapping his hips. "Fuck," he growled. "Fuck, Princess, I-"

He shuddered, cumming quickly and abruptly. You gasped, feeling yourself tumble after him, shuddering through your orgasm as the Force seized you. You clutched Kylo as tight as you could, and it left the two of you clinging to each other, gasping for air as you came down from your highs.

Kylo pulled away, staring into your eyes, looking surprised. Neither of you had ever cum that fast before. And never in your life had you wanted someone so suddenly and so abruptly.

He smoothed down the hair at the side of your face. "Princess," he breathed.

"Yeah?" Your breath stuttered, choking you.

He was silent for several moments, eyes searching your face. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something. Waiting for him to call you his wife.

But instead, he dropped his hand, pulling away from you. He adjusted himself, put on his helmet, and then turned back to you when he had his hand on the door.

"I'll see you soon," he murmured. And then, he was gone.

You were stunned. Filled with warmth, but somehow, rigid with disappointment. He hadn't said a thing. Hadn't even addressed the fact that you were now married. He'd fucked you before even calling you his wife. You smoothed your skirts and wiped your forehead. You were disappointed, but in a weird way, you understood. This wasn't a marriage of love. It was a marriage of opportunity. As powerful as Kylo was, the two of you were really just kids—kids trying to clean up the war-torn galaxy that your forefathers had left behind.

Neither of you knew how to navigate marriage.

So when you gathered yourself, finally finding the courage to exit the closet and walk back to the throne room as inconspicuously as possible, you weren't angry. Just reeling with confusion, as you usually were when it came to Kylo Ren.

When you returned to the courtroom, Gil found you before you could find him. Your eyes flickered up towards his, and you tried not to look sheepish.

"Well, I hope you're having fun," he murmured, grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"And how is your new husband this evening?"

A jolt of butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you tried to bite back a grin, just to spite your meddling bodyguard. But still. _Husband._

Kylo Ren was your husband.

And you were his wife.

But after just a few seconds, your smile faded.

He was your husband.

Was it ever going to _feel_ that way?

Inhaling, you brushed away the thought. Now was not the time to worry whether or not your forced marriage was going to work. You tried to remind yourself that eventually, when you returned to the Resistance and the Final Order was destroyed, your marriage wasn't going to _exist_.

Oddly enough, that didn't bring you any comfort.

"Gil, I need a drink. How much do you love me?" you teased.

Gil's eyes darted towards yours. "What would Master say?" he purred. "If he knew you were flirting with me right after getting married and fucking in the next room over?"

Your heart plummeted. You'd only meant it as a joke; you didn't actually think Gil _loved_ you. You didn't even think he _liked_ you that much. Your stomach pooled with guilt as your brows rose, eyes widening in fear.

But he only chuckled softly, taking a step forward, taking your glass between his fingers and pressing his lips to your ear. "Don't worry," he murmured. "I won't tell him."

Gil turned on his heel, brushing your hair as he set off for the refreshment table again. You exhaled shakily, still feeling guilty. Maybe he was right. Even if you were joking, you were _married_ to Kylo Ren. And you'd just fucked in a closet not five minutes ago. You had to watch what you said—now more than ever. Gil was becoming such a close companion, someone that you trusted, someone you felt you could tease and annoy. Reminding yourself that you hadn't meant to flirt with him, you turned over your shoulder, smoothing down your skirt it an attempt to steady yourself.

When you were alone, you found your eyes scanning over the crowd once again. Kylo was taller than almost everyone else in the room, except maybe for Rharo, who was long gone. Your eyes landed on him almost instantaneously. He was still surrounded by Moffs and governors and ambassadors, all of them undoubtedly trying to secure their good graces, ensuring that their planets benefitted from the newly secured alliance with your home planet.

You weren't able to look away. You stared at the side of his helmet, body held tautly in irritation, or maybe boredom. And all you could _do_ was stare at him—until someone approached you from behind, saying nothing, but planting himself at your side without a word.

He was wearing a strange sort of helmet, a decorative visor that covered most of his face. Turning, you could only see his lips, everything else covered with steel plating, half of a helmet.

Naboo fashion was the damnedest thing, you decided, turning away from him in discomfort.

"Enjoying the wedding?" he purred.

" _Evander?"_ you hissed, flinging around to face him. That would explain the weird helmet—he was dressed like a socialite but no one could see his face. A smart move, but it didn't feel safe enough. He had quite literally strolled into the party. 

The Resistance had officially infiltrated the castle.

You found yourself looking wildly over your shoulder. Then, you realized how suspicious you must have looked, and tried to steel yourself.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I had to see you," he whispered, stepping closer to you, trying to look inconspicuous. "I've been looking for you. Where have you been?"

You stared at him with a pinched brow, panic suddenly surging in your chest. You huffed, still feeling the effects of what you and Kylo had just done in the closet only minutes ago. You still felt shaky, your forehead still chilled with sweat. The evidence was practically all over you.

Evander had no idea that you'd just slept with the enemy.

"How'd you get in?" you asked, curbing the question.

"Finn. We broke into a socialite's mansion. He's a collector. Works for the Order every now and then. Thanks to Finn, he's unconscious but unharmed in his home, and by the time I've returned his gear," he said, gesturing to his strange party get-up, "we'll be long gone. And he won't remember any of this."

You shook your head, sucking your lower lip in between your teeth. "My guard's gone to get me a drink. Just to be safe, you should be gone by the time he gets back."

"I know. But I had to make sure you're alright."

"Are you sure this was the time and the place?"

"I wanted to make sure you were still treated alright after the wedding. I've been worried about you. The longer this mission goes on, the less and less I like it. I've asked your mother to cancel the job, to send a team to rescue you, or help you escape."

"No," you answered quickly, choking slightly on the word. Gods above, you were still out of breath. Not to mention your anxiety was surging. "No, Evander. It's alright. The mission is fine. Everything is under control."

He was silent for a moment, shifting his weight cautiously. "I thought you wanted to come back."

"I did. But really, it's not so bad. They don't hate me. I'm treated well. And I'm..." you thought about your words carefully. You couldn't tell him about your plans to spare Kylo Ren and bring him to the Resistance. Not yet. He wouldn't understand. So you settled with, "I'm doing well. Getting a lot of stuff done."

"I believe it," he murmured gently. A beat passed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay."

"I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt."

"I know. But I we all know what we signed up for. I'll be okay."

"Alright," he conceded. "But Princess," he said, so intensely, that you turned to look at him full-on. "I'll get you out of here as soon as I can. I'll get you away from that monster. That's a promise."

Inhaling slowly, you turned your gaze back to the crowd. Your eyes fell on Kylo without even having to look for him; finding him in the sea of people was like finding the brightest star in the sky. Your gaze softened. And even with Evander standing right beside you, your oldest friend, someone who you'd once wanted to me _more_ than a friend—you just couldn't look away from the Emperor.

"Okay," you told him, voice barely above a whisper.

"We need a better way to meet. Where can I find you?"

You pinched your brow. "That's not necessary."

He stared at you silently for several heavy, blank moments. "It's a part of the mission, Princess. I'll need reports."

"Right," you stammered, shaking your head. "The easternmost rotunda on the cliffside of the palace. There's a balcony," you told him, shifting nervously. You didn't know why you felt uncomfortable telling him. He _needed_ to know. "But there's no way to get into my quarters from the outside."

"I'll find a way. Is it guarded?"

"Not the balcony."

He was silent for another moment. And then, he stiffened. "I'll come for you soon. Be safe, Princess. And may the Force be with you."

General Leia must have had them all saying that, you figured. You turned to watch Evander leave, brow softening with a sliver of sadness. You watched him disappear into the crowd, and then it was as if he had never been there at all. You waited for the loneliness to hit you, the way it had each time you'd watched him go before. But it didn't come. 

Strange.

You turned back to Kylo. And your breath caught in your throat. Because he was looking at you too.

He was still engaged in conversation. Or at least, several ambassadors were attempting to hold his attention. But his gaze was locked with yours. His stance was eager, hitched slightly forward on his toes. If he'd seen you talking to Evander, he must have assumed he was just another partygoer offering their congratulations to the bride. You let a small smile form on your lips.

You could feel his gaze as if it was as physical and as tangible as the Force, reaching out and gripping you. And in that moment, you knew that he _saw_ you in a way that none of these other men did.

And then, without really knowing why, your eyes shifted to the right, falling upon the large, stone throne, and the smaller one that stood beside it. You thought of Kylo sitting atop his. You thought of yourself, seated by his side.

You smiled.


	18. Everything You've Ever Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not me desecrating the Clones balcony

Kriff, it was awkward.

It shouldn’t have been awkward, but it was. All things considered, Kylo begrudgingly admitted internally, that a bit of discomfort was to be expected. He knew Princess’s body inside and out. But he was still becoming acquainted with her mind. While he trusted her allegiance—which was certainly the most important thing—there was so much about his new bride that he didn’t know. He knew that she melted under his hands. He knew how to make her writhe and scream. He knew that she had fun toying with him at the wedding reception, throwing him suggestive little glances as he spoke with the governors and socialites.

He knew that their first interaction as husband and wife was having sex in a broom closet.

He knew that she _wanted_ him.

So it was odd that he didn’t know exactly how she felt about being _married_ to him.

And he’d been alone with her since the wedding. During the gala…the closet…And yet, he hadn’t said anything to her. He should have. He should have claimed her as his wife. Should have told her who she belonged to, even if she already knew it. Should have told her that he was pleased that she was his. But he’d missed his chance.

Everything that happened in the closet was rushed. Never in his life had Kylo been so desperate to have someone so urgently.

But far too often around her, he didn’t know what to say. Princess excited him.

But in smaller ways, he felt cautious around her, too. Confused.

As a result, the ride from Theed Castle to Varykino lake house was more silent than Kylo would have liked. He drummed in thighs with anxiety and impatience, leather gloves repeatedly tapping himself just to stay occupied. Princess’s face was practically smashed up against the window, taking in the sides of the countryside.

His chest tightened at that.

He felt some relief when they landed, and fortunately, it wasn’t a long ride. The transport lowered onto the hangar, and the staff of ‘troopers set off unloading their luggage. It wouldn’t be a long honeymoon; Kylo barely ever stopped working for any reason whatsoever, and decided he’d only be away from his duties for a day or two. But he knew it was imperative to take some time off, to make sure his Princess was comfortable.

And he didn’t even know _why_ it was imperative. In fact, upon reflection, maybe it wasn’t. But there he was, gazing at her as she exited the transport, watching her stare up at the cliffside that housed the lake house as the ‘troopers started up the stairs to the courtyard.

She was still in her wedding dress. Kriff. His chest tightened again.

As he stood, he reached into his pocket, adjusting himself, clearing his throat as he watched the soft, white fabric billow around her frame as the wind blew over the water.

He needed to get her inside. _Now._

He approached her from behind, and noted how she startled slightly when his hand found the small of her back. He smirked beneath his mask. She loved to pretend to be so unafraid, but she could still be so jumpy at times.

Kylo knew that a part of him still scared her as much as it excited her, too.

He grinned. This was going to be the most fun he’d had in _years._

Walking into the lake house didn’t feel as private or as special as he would have liked. As he followed Princess up the stairs on the cliffside, he kept a wide berth to let her enjoy the views of the country and take it all in. There were servants and guards bustling everywhere around them, maids in long dresses carrying some of the Princess’s luggage inside, Stormtroopers carrying in Kylo’s large trunks, Sith Troopers standing guard, holding massive guns, forming a perimeter around the property. Kriff, when were they going to be _alone?_

He should have been in a good mood. It was their _honeymoon._ He was finally going to have some time alone with her. But as he trailed after Princess, descending into the estate and finding their bedroom, his fists were clenched at his sides. He just felt tense.

The master bedroom was large and open, the wall facing the cliffside opened up by large windows and archways, giving the lake-breeze full access to the room. The curtains fluttered, licking softly at the floor. He looked towards the water. There was a balcony just beyond the bedroom. It would have been peaceful if countless ‘troopers weren’t coming in and out of the room, dropping off metal boxes and sleek traveling trunks. How many kriffing bags did the Princess need to bring? They’d only be there for a matter of days.

“That’s enough,” Kylo snapped suddenly. “Deliver the rest to the parlor. I’d like to be alone with the Princess.”

Kylo could sense the Stormtroopers as they stopped what they were doing, dropping the bags they were holding to make a swift exit. But Kylo’s eyes weren’t on the ‘troopers. They were on the Princess. Glued to her as she turned slowly around, admiring the domed ceiling above their heads, gazing out towards the balcony.

But as she turned, her eyes fell upon Kylo. She inhaled slowly, eyes going wide.

They were finally alone.

There was a beat of silence as Kylo inhaled. Well _kriff,_ he’d wanted time alone with her, and now that he had it, he didn’t know what to do. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides as he stared at her, desperate for _so much,_ that he wasn’t sure where to begin.

Figuring his helmet would be a good place to start, his fingers found the release buttons, lifting it off his head and settling it gently onto a nearby end table.

He watched her carefully, watched how she gasped softly at the sight of his face. Something inside of him clenched to see her lips part, to see her lungs inflate on a sharp but gentle stream of air. He took a step forward, but he didn’t go any further.

“You did well today,” he mumbled, his voice barely steady. He swallowed heavily. Why was this so fucking hard?

“Oh,” she mumbled. “Thanks. There wasn’t much to it, but I’m glad I didn’t disappoint.”

He hummed lowly, noting the humor in her voice, but also the way her lips almost seemed to quiver. She was nervous. Suddenly, Kylo felt warm.

“I particularly enjoyed the gala,” she said, causing Kylo’s brows to twitch upwards. Nervous…but still a daring little thing. He hummed again, taking her words as permission to step forward.

“Did you,” he mumbled. “I thought I would have to apologize for that.”

“What, you mean for consummating our marriage in a broom cupboard?”

His fingers flexed into fists, and he studied her carefully. But Princess wasn’t always easy to read. But Kylo knew she deserved more than that. She knew the whole day must have been a disappointment for her—for a Princess who most likely always dreamed of a large white wedding, something that Kylo could never understand the appeal of.

“I don’t know what this is,” he confessed in a low voice. “Marriage was always a foreign concept to me. I never considered that I’d…” But he couldn’t finish. He looked away, having no desire to pierce her with his words. He knew it wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear.

“Be forced into it?” she finished for him.

Kylo’s head snapped back towards hers. She was looking at him with large eyes, eyes that somehow reached his soul.

His lungs deflated.

Of course she understood.

Because she was going through the same exact thing.

Kylo took one last step forward, closing the distance between him and Princess, gently taking her hand, lips pursing slightly as he stared at her fingers, thumb pressing into her knuckle.

“I don’t know how the hell to be married,” he confessed.

“Then we already have something in common.”

His eyes lifted towards hers, brows raised in soft surprise. He stared at her until it became too overwhelming, until his chest felt too tight, until he needed to breathe again.

“I almost forgot. I have something for you,” he murmured suddenly, releasing Princess’s hand and briskly making his way towards one of the trunks against the far wall. Kneeling, he reached into it, pulling out a small, leather box before returning to stand in front of her. “A gift,” he explained, holding it out.

Princess’s brow furrowed and she looked from the box to him, as if asking for permission. He gave her a curt nod, so she gently took the box in hand, opening the lid cautiously.

“I know today must not have been your dream wedding. So I thought you deserved a proper ring.”

Kylo watched her lungs all but deflate as she slowly pulled the ring from the box, undoubtedly shocked by the weight of the thing. It had two metal bands, each lined with large diamonds, and a massive red stone set in the middle, glimmering in a captivating blood-red shade.

“It’s Sarrassion iron,” he explained. “A rare metal found only in the rubble of Asteroids in Aniras Belt. It’s not a gem, but it’s more precious.”

She cocked her head as she admired the ring, lifting it up to the light. “It’s almost glowing,” she breathed. “It’s almost like…” Then, her gaze ripped from the ring to land on Kylo. He lifted his chin. “The veins in your helmet.”

Kylo’s lips twitched upwards, and he nodded. Princess stared back down at the ring, brows lifted, face soft and gentle. Emotional. Kylo braced himself; he expected such a sincere reaction from her, but it didn’t make navigating her emotional nature any easier. He stiffened, already feeling awkward, lip curling in frustration.

“Put it on,” he said quickly, taking the ring less gently than he’d intended, sliding it onto her finger. She gasped softly as he did so, admiring the ring for another moment before lifting her gaze.

“Kylo,” she breathed. “It’s…”

“I have another,” he said quickly, taking a step back and reaching into his robe, retrieving another box. He didn’t give her a chance to thank him, mostly because he didn’t know how to respond to that kind of sincerity, to the sort of kindness his Princess possessed when she wasn’t being such a fucking brat. She may have had a sharp tongue and a short temper and an insatiable thirst for Kylo, but at her core was a heart of gold.

And Kylo was still learning how to deal with it.

So instead of giving her any kind words in return, he just shoved the box roughly into her hands. She hesitated, but ultimately opened the lid.

This time, she gasped out loud, clasping a hand over her mouth.

It was a choker that matched the ring, a thick, diamond necklace threaded with the same glowing, red metal stones. It shone brightly as it caught the sun. It was probably worth more than everything in the lake house estate combined.

Kylo was hitched forward on his toes, drinking in her reaction, desperate to know if she liked it. His heart sank at her startled expression—was she disappointed? Disgusted? Did she think it was too much? Maybe it wasn’t her style. She wasn’t giggling in delight or rushing to put on the necklace.

His stomach plummeted. She hated it.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll find another,” he stammered.

“I can’t accept this,” she breathed suddenly. Her eyes flickered up towards his, and they were wide, pleading. So innocent. “Kylo, I…it’s stunning. But I…can’t,” she said, thrusting the box back towards him, as if she was afraid of it.

“It’s yours,” he told her with a small nod, brows twitching together. “Put it on.”

“It’s too much, Kylo. I didn’t get you a gift. I can’t-”

“Quiet,” he said, though his voice was gentle as he plucked the necklace from the box, moving to stand behind Princess. The word was curt, but deep inside, Kylo was pleased. Because she liked it. She liked it so much, she thought she didn’t deserve it. His sweet little Princess.

He slipped the choker around her neck, securing it in place. It hugged the middle of her throat. He held his breath.

“Well?” he asked.

When Princess turned around to face him, her fingers were lightly trailing over the necklace. “It’s heavy,” she whispered.

“Because it’s valuable,” he agreed with a nod.

Her brows lifted. “It’s beautiful. All of it…they’re beautiful.”

“There are more,” he told her. “I’ll get you more. Anything you want is yours. I have the power to give it to you.”

She seemed to quiver, like she was fighting the urge to melt. Kylo’s cock twitched in his pants. Who knew his little Princess would be so seduced by _rocks?_

 _Women,_ he thought.

Kylo stared at the necklace in approval, smirking at his glorious Princess.

She covered her lips with trembling fingers before pressing them to her cheek, as if she was trying to cool herself. Kriff, she was…Kylo shook away the thought. She was a lot of things. And he swelled with pride, fully enjoying flexing his wealth and his power.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t get you anything. I thought…I didn’t think you’d want me to make a big deal…”

His chest tightened as he stared down at her, studying her carefully. Her eyes looked very wet all of a sudden. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, clenching his teeth.

“I wouldn’t,” he told her.

“But…but _you-”_

“It’s different,” he told her evenly. “You’re my guest. I want you to know that you’ll be taken care of here.” His hand stuttered with hesitation, but he pushed through the feeling, taking a strand of her hair in between his fingertips, rolling it lightly beneath his skin. It felt soft. It felt good. “As long as you’re loyal to me, you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. More.”

Princess swallowed thickly. Kylo watched her throat flex as she did. Something flickered behind her eyes, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

She lifted herself on her toes, placing her palm against his cheek—gently. Kylo winced anyway.

Her eyes softened, but he almost didn’t see; he lowered his gaze so quickly. But she lifted his face with a gentle touch, forcing him to meet her eyes. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You can trust me,” she breathed.

He could feel the muscles in his jaw flexing from holding it so tight. His breath stuttered its way out of his lungs as she leaned in closer to him.

Saying that he could trust her wasn’t enough. It never would be. As far as Kylo was concerned, it was just words. But strangely, he _did_ trust her...or at least he trusted her loyalty to the Order. He’d seen her mind, seen that she had nothing to hide from him. She was powerful, sure, but no _way_ was she powerful enough to hide anything incriminating. She’d saved his life, and she hadn’t hesitated to do it. She’d even seen into _his_ mind. And yet she was still there, fingers trailing over his cheekbone.

He clenched his jaw tighter. He shouldn’t let his guard down. He couldn’t let her make him weak.

But her lips were so close. And what if she was his— _truly_ his? What if she _could_ be trusted? What if she truly wanted him? And Kylo knew that she _wanted_ him, but what if it was beyond even what he’d thought? What if she wanted who he was? She wasn’t trying to _change_ him.

There had only been one other—one other person in the entirety of his life, who hadn’t made Kylo feel like he should have become somebody other than who he really was.

And now Princess was making him feel _exactly_ the same way.

Without thinking, Kylo urgently wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking her against him. Her middle pressed against his stomach, and he clenched her against him so she couldn’t be any farther from him than as close as humanly possible.

His forehead was inches from hers. He tilted his head just barely so he could stare into her eyes.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he hissed against her lips.

She shuddered. He gripped her harder.

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

He was trying to be gentle as he held her but his fingers were nearly digging into her cheek with one hand and into her waist with the other. He was nearly trembling as he swallowed her gaze with his own. Those beautiful, lost eyes.

“My Princess,” Kylo breathed. “My wife.” His voice dropped to a whisper, brows pinching as he discovered how the word felt in his mouth.

The word “wife” tasted strange on his tongue. He searched his mind, trying to determine whether or not he liked it.

It took him only moments to decide that he did.

He exhaled in the same moment he let his lips crash against Princess’s, smoldering her in a kiss that burned at the touch. He felt her lips part beneath her own and he groaned into her mouth in response, tongue pressing deeper, tasting her greedily. She moaned softly, pressing herself against him.

Kylo couldn’t help himself. With his thumb, he tilted her head upwards, and dove his lips towards the curve in her neck. He could feel her breath hitching in her throat, just beneath his lips, as he placed sloppy, desperate kisses down towards her collarbone. Her fingers twitched, twining in his hair as she rolled her hips against his. His tongue was fervent, licking at the skin of her cleavage, lips sucking against the tops of her breasts spilling out of her neckline.

His hands weren’t merciful either, both of them roughly gripping her ass, forcing her hips to grind against his as he worked his mouth, tasting her. And her fingers were only holding him closer, fisting in his hair.

Suddenly, she tensed, and in the same instant, Kylo did too. There was a noise at the door. Kylo turned his head, finding a scandalized looking servant girl standing in the entryway, holding a basket of fresh linen. Princess whimpered, turning away in embarrassment. Kylo’s eyes centered on the maid. If his glare could have killed her…

“ _Get the fuck out_ ,” he snarled.

The poor girl jolted, dropping the basket and slamming the doors shut behind her. Kylo exhaled, tugging Princess against him again, wordlessly reminding her that he had her. They were alone.

He at least tried to be gentle as his hands moved to unclasp her dress at the back; he’d destroyed several of her gowns before and her wedding dress wasn’t going to be one of them. Cautious but desperate, he pulled until the fabric was free, sliding the garment down her indecent curves, reveling in the wake of warm, bare skin.

Shuddering against her, he pulled away only far enough to allow her to step out of the gown, and in the same instant, her fingers were darting to unclasp his cloak. Removing his helmet earlier had saved them some time; her lips were searching for his as she yanked at his belt and shoved his tunic off his shoulders.

“Kylo,” she breathed unsteadily. She was reaching for him but he held her at a small distance, keeping a hand on her hip so he could pull away and admire the sight of her in her undergarments. His thumb trailed the line of her panties. He was almost gentle—for a moment. Until something inside of him snapped, and he realized all over again how much he was burning for her.

“Fuck,” he muttered shakily, moving to unclasp her bra and ripping it from her chest. His lips pressed against hers as he began to slide down her panties. She shimmied her legs, helping him force the tiny fabric down her thighs far enough so she could step out of it. Kylo wrapped a hand around her throat but his touch was gentle. He didn’t grasp, just enjoyed the feeling of her pulse against his fingertips as he walked her backwards towards the bed.

“Lie down,” he breathed against her mouth.

She whimpered, and did what he said, stepping away from him but not releasing his gaze, lowering herself onto her back.

“Fuck,” he breathed, holding her gaze as long as he could before he tore off his black shirt. It left him in nothing but his trousers and boots, his pants already feeling painfully tight.

Kylo lowered himself on top of her, and his hips rolled against her center. She moaned, curling her hands into his hair as their lips clashed.

But then he drew away, keeping his lips feather-light against hers as one hand strayed downwards. He slipped his middle finger into her cunt, stunned but pleased by how wet she already felt.

“Now,” he breathed, lips brushing against hers. “I’m gonna tell you what I’m going to do, okay?”

Shakily, she nodded. Breathless.

He plunged his finger deeper, his pace glacial. She groaned, rolling her hips, eyelashes fluttering as her face strained with pleasure.

“I’m going to eat your fucking pussy until you’re cumming on my face, do you understand?”

Her lips fell open beneath his, and she released a shaky groan. Kylo inhaled deeply in response, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Good,” he whispered.

He tore himself off of her, finger still working inside her cunt. He kissed down her chest, lips lingering on her tits before lowering to her stomach, until they hovered above her cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathed, working in and out of her pussy. His pace was still slow and even, but he added another finger, and another moan tumbled out from Princess’s lips.

“Oh, fuck. Oh my gods,” she breathed, fingers tugging on Kylo’s hair as his tongue slid between her folds. Her toes curled against his shoulder blades. He hummed in approval, the sound buzzing against her pussy.

“Fuck. _Fuck,”_ Princess repeated, and Kylo noticed that her fingers left his hair. His scalp would have screamed in relief if it was possible, but he didn’t mind the pain at all. Still, he tensed, tongue still flicking over her clit, as her fingers fell upon his free hand, gently prying it away from her hip.

Princess sighed, and Kylo’s eyes flickered up to watch her, brows raised in awe as she arched her back deeper, her fingers interlacing with Kylo’s as he ate her pussy.

He moaned. This was intimate—more intimate that he would have liked with anybody else. But with Princess, he only wanted to tumble deeper, to lose himself further. He groaned in satisfaction, rolling his hips against nothing, desperate for release; watching Princess lose herself in pleasure only mounted his own desire. Their palms pressed firmly together, fingers clenched and interlocked.

Using his hand as leverage, she rocked her hips down to meet each kiss, each dive of Kylo’s tongue. While it was easier to look down, to focus on her cunt, Kylo found his eyes venturing upwards, admiring how her stomach fluttered and chest heaved with ragged, desperate breaths.

His hand worked faster. He could hear how wet she was against his fingers, and it only made his cock tighten and twitch. Fuck, he was so hard he was practically _aching._ But he was going to make his Princess cum before he fucked her. And then, he was going to make her cum again and again.

“Kylo,” she stuttered. “Fuck, I-oh my gods, I’m gonna cum.”

She was whiteknuckling his fingers with her own, but he just kept working his tongue against her clit. She was stronger than she looked, strong enough to twist his fingers hard enough to make it hurt. Fuck, it was divine. Kylo buried his face harder against her pussy, lips and tongue wet and desperate, desperate to make his Princess cum.

She obliged. Her hips jolted upwards and she tilted her head back, releasing a shuddering scream as Kylo’s tongue worked her through her orgasm. His eyes flickered up again. Her head was thrown back, jaw and neck tight and taut as she cried out, the middle of her back lifted off the mattress. Her thighs were quivering at the sides of Kylo’s face.

Fuck, she looked perfect. Kylo couldn’t let her come down from her high; there wasn’t time. He was too desperate. He was _aching._

Kylo pulled himself away from her, detaching his hands and yanking her thighs so he dragged her down the mattress, her hips nearly flush with his.

“Fuck. Fuck, I need to be inside you,” he hissed. Her breath hitched in response, fingers flying to his hips, bringing him closer. Kylo gripped his cock in hand, lining it up to her entrance and desperately plunging into her.

Princess moaned as she took every inch, humming in satisfaction as Kylo bottomed himself out, pressing his hips as hard against hers as he could manage. Her lips parted and she groaned, head tilting back, giving Kylo the most glorious view of her neck. His breath stuttered out of his lungs, fanning across her throat as her pussy stretched around his cock.

“Fuck,” she whispered, breath uneven. He’d slid into her with ease; she was dripping wet and ready to take him, but she was so fucking _tight,_ that as Kylo began to move, she could feel her walls fluttering, stretching, squeezing his cock. He made an attempt to not sound so fucking depraved, but really, it was useless. He groaned, pressing the two fingers that had been inside of her against her lips.

She didn’t even wait for instructions, eager thing. Her lips parted as Kylo rocked his hips against her, sucking his fingers down to the knuckle, tasting herself greedily. _Fuck,_ she was greedy, and Kylo couldn’t wait to feed into her desires, to spoil her until she was drunk on power.

He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his lips. Princess kissed him feverishly, tongue slipping into his mouth. His stomach tightened at the sensation of his tongue swirling with hers, groaning into her mouth. She groaned with him.

“Fuck, you taste perfect,” he growled, one hand moving to rest gently on her throat as he fucked her. The muscles of her neck twitched against his hand as he plunged his cock in and out of her tight pussy.

She hummed against his mouth, tongue dragging across his lower lip. Kylo winced as her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades, but the pain only spurred him on. It was perfect. _She_ was perfect.

“How is it that I’ve already fucked you once since the wedding, and I still can’t fucking get enough of you?” he snarled, seizing her lips in another smothering kiss.

“Oh my fucking gods, Kylo. You’re stretching me out so good. Filling me up like- _fuck-_ like you were _made_ for me.”

“ _Oh, fuck,”_ he snarled, his words sending crippling waves of pleasure straight through to his cock, making it pulse inside her tight walls. His lips trailed her jawline, sloppy and wet, as he held her by the neck, pounding into her desperately. “You keep talking like that and you’re gonna make me cum, Princess. Is that what you want?” he huffed in between thrusts, voice ragged and breathy. “You want me to fill you up with my cum?”

Princess cried out, her pretty face contorted, walls of her pussy pulsating around Kylo’s cock as he pounded the both of them closer and closer to release.

 _“Fuck,”_ he growled. “ _Move_.” But he didn’t let her do any of the work—Kylo rolled off of her, situating himself on his side and roughly maneuvering Princess so her back was pressed against his stomach. She moaned as he pressed into her from behind, lifting her leg so he could thrust into her dripping cunt. “Touch yourself,” he breathed. “I want to watch you.”

Kylo could have used the Force against her clit, but watching her pleasure herself was too good to pass up. Watching the way the muscles in her arm flexed, how her whole body writhed and rolled in ecstasy. Kylo bit down hard on his bottom lip, watching her hand fly between her legs to rub rapid, hungry circles against her sizzling nerves. But when she turned her head over her shoulder, and her eyes met his once again—that took his breath away.

Her face was flushed, lips parted and kiss-swollen and wet. She hummed lowly and loudly, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth as Kylo thrusted—he was so close. So fucking close.

“Kylo,” she whimpered. “Please.”

His eyes darted to her ass bouncing against his hips. He cursed, releasing a chain of expletives that fumbled carelessly from his lips as he hissed in pleasure. Kylo stared deeply into her, hell-bent on looking at those eyes while he released himself.

“I want you to cum for me, Princess,” he breathed. “I need it. Cum on my cock. _Now._ ”

If Kylo’s dick wasn’t enough to make her cum, then the commanding tone of his voice would have done the job on its own. Princess was a lost cause, falling over the edge, eyes locking with Kylo as he fucked her through her orgasm. Her lips parted and she cried out, releasing a jagged groan that pierced Kylo down to his very core. His cock twitched inside her tight walls, and the next thing he knew, he was tumbling right after her.

 _“Fuck,”_ he hissed. “Fuck, Princess, I’m cumming, _FUCK,”_ he groaned, the last word more of a thunder as he spilled his load inside of her, her walls stroking every last bit of his desperation.

At some point, his eyes had squeezed shut. He was rolling his hips gently, riding down his high. When he came to, he released she had a hand fisted in his hair again. He moaned through tightly-pressed lips, and finally, his body relaxed. Slowly, he pulled out of her, holding her tighter when he felt her wince, content to just lay there and listen to the sound of her breath even out.

She whimpered as she adjusted herself, wiggling to lay against the curve of Kylo’s body, sensitive and spent. His lips pressed against the nape of her neck before he even realized what he was doing.

Kylo turned his face into her hair, and let his eyes shut. His grip was snug around her body, and he hoped it was enough to keep her warm. He figured she would have drifted off to sleep immediately, but his eyes opened again once he heard her speak, her voice hoarse and quiet.

“I don’t know how the hell to be married either, but I think this is an okay start.”

He considered this, thumb dragging gently down her neck. “I thought Princesses spend their whole lives preparing for marriage.”

“Nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing could have prepared me for you.”

Kylo hummed, brows twitching. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But he was too tired to find out. He settled against his pillow, pulling Princess snug against his chest. His arms tightened.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

No one disturbed Princess and Kylo. They fell asleep in the early evening, and slept until the sun had gone down. It was rare for him to have a break, which meant it was rare for him to sleep. _She,_ on the other hand, had the ability to sleep for hours on end at any given time. And laced up between his limbs, lying with him on a soft bed, the breeze from the lake whisping through the archways and tickling their skin—nothing had felt so comfortable in a long, long time.

At some point in the night, Kylo had kicked off his pants and shoes and climbed out of bed only to pull down the blankets; when night fell, the breeze became cold. Princess didn’t stir as he lifted her in his arms and settled her beneath of the sheets, and she stayed asleep while Kylo snuggled up next to her and pulled the covers up to their shoulders. He let his finger trail her nose, her cheek, the underside of her lips, before he laid down again, wrapping an arm around her and shutting his eyes.

There had only been one other person, one singular other soul out of the billions of lives scattered throughout the galaxy, who didn’t expect Kylo to be a carbon copy of either his uncle or his grandfather. Who _saw_ him. Who wanted him for who he was.

Finding another felt like a chance in a million.

This time, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Kylo didn’t know how long he’d been asleep; all he knew was that suddenly, he was awake. The sky was pitch-black, and the wind freezing cold. It was the middle of the night; the coming winter meant that after the sun went down, the weather was less forgiving. The breeze from the opened archways felt like ice against his skin, but even so, he was sweating, sitting upright in bed rapidly, chest heaving with air as he fought and failed to catch his breath.

His mind was still half in the throngs of sleep but his body was awake and alert. Confused, half-unconscious, he wracked his mind. The last thing he’d seen was Princess, holding a blaster to his head. He stumbled through his thoughts trying to figure out what happened, but when he turned, she was sleeping peacefully next to him. Too panicked and tired and confused to realize he’d just been dreaming, Kylo whirled around in bed, clamping one hand around her throat and squeezing, lips curling in fury, heart clenching in pain. She’d betrayed him. He’d seen it—seen her gun pointed to his head. She had to die.

Princess’s eyes flew open, lips parted to let out a scream, but her airway was clenched shut by Kylo’s fingers. Her hands clawed at his wrists. He watched her struggle. If his gaze had stayed on her hands, maybe he would have killed her.

But it fell into her eyes, instead.

He softened, sitting back on his heels, straddling her hips, yanking his hand away from her throat as it dawned on him that the vision he’d just seen of her betrayal was just that—a vision. A dream.

A terrible nightmare.

Kylo shut his eyes as shame overtook him. It had felt so real _._ Ever since Exegol, the nightmares had been treacherous. But never did he think they would have the power to scare him, to confuse him so much that he’d hurt someone else. But the dream had been so vivid. He could _see_ her pointing the gun, could see the muscles of her arm flex as she aimed it at his head. Could see the cold rage in her eyes, an unyielding determination to end his life.

But it was just a dream.

Kylo exhaled and swung himself off of her without a word. She had her hands raised in defense and they were trembling as she stared up at him in bewilderment. But it struck him with too much sorrow to look at her for any longer, or even to apologize. He ripped the top sheet from off the bed, slinging it around his shoulders before he retreated onto the balcony.

His legs stuttered as he stumbled towards the railing, mind still reeling, clouded with exhaustion and conflict. His hands caught on the large, stone rail, his back slightly hunched. The sheet around his shoulders was providing some relief against the wind, but the cold felt good. It felt like someone had lit a match beneath his skin. Like he was burning from the inside out.

“Kylo.”

Princess’s voice came from behind him, soft and gentle and cautious. He should have known she’d follow him. He turned, hugging the sheet around his body, his brows pinched together in guilt.

She must have been so afraid. He almost killed her.

He exhaled; the sound was a strangled huff. She sprung forward, holding the blanket from the bed to her chest. Landing in front of Kylo, she tried her best to search his eyes.

“What did I do?” she whispered.

Something inside of Kylo seemed to…shatter. But it was so deep that he couldn’t even identify it. The longer he looked at her broken eyes, the more he was flooded with shame. But there was something else, too, a tugging at the back of his mind. Sure, it had just been a dream, but what if it _meant_ something? What if it was a warning?

He growled softly, barely able to look at her.

“It wasn’t you,” he confessed. “Just a dream.”

He heard her exhale, presumably relieved that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked carefully.

He chewed the inside of his cheek, lips chewing and fidgeting as he tried to decide whether or not to open up about it. But he knew his Princess, and he knew she wouldn’t relent. That, and he didn’t want to hold it in. Hours ago, he’d been so desperate for her body. Now, he was desperate for any validation that she wouldn’t turn on him.

“I dreamt about you,” he said, standing over her, tall and as strong as a statue, but as empty and torn as a man could possibly be. He was practically shaking beneath the wind. “I dreamt that you betrayed me.”

“W-what?”

He could count the times that Princess had been quiet and demure on a single hand, so seeing her so unsure made him uneasy. He wasn’t used to her caution, or her fear.

“I dreamt that you betrayed me. That you tried to kill me,” he managed, teeth gritted together. “And I don’t know if it was just a dream, or something more.”

“It wasn’t,” she said quickly, stepping closer so her hands, pinning the blanket to her chest, brushed Kylo’s middle. “It was just a dream. It was nothing.”

He wanted to accept that. Wanted to lean into her words. Wanted to _trust_ her. Maybe finding someone who wanted him for who he was was just too much to ask for. Maybe it was too good to be true.

His lips curled in response, muscles tightening all throughout his body. He was unsure if he should listen to the girl, or if he should listen to the worst parts of his mind.

But suddenly, her fingers were reaching up, trailing his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut, and his chest unclenched, muscles relaxing into her touch.

“Kylo, listen to me.”

His eyes caught hers, and examined her face carefully. Her brow was drawn in focus, her lips opening and closing and then opening again. She looked like she was considering her words carefully.

“I’m not going to betray you,” she said evenly. “I give you my word that everything I do will be to protect you. To help you. I want you to remember that.”

Her brow twitched again—perhaps in conflict, or guilt. Kylo didn’t notice. His heart was too busy swelling with relief to realize that Princess looked like she was struggling. He reached down towards her, pressing his lips against hers and shoving the blanket off her shoulders so he could draw her into his sheet and share the warmth of his body instead. She pressed against him, kissing him firmly but tenderly.

He let himself relax, but after a few moments, pulled away, staring down at her carefully.

“You won’t stay overnight in my quarters again,” he told her evenly, though it pained him to command it, especially when he wanted so badly for her to stay.

“No,” she responded quickly. “That’s not going to work for me.”

His jaw set. “I could hurt you,” he said.

“I can defend myself. Besides, you’ve had a nightmare before tonight, and you didn’t hurt me then.”

Kylo shook his head. “It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

Her browse rose challengingly. “Well, that’s too bad,” she said evenly, raising her voice to get the point across.

He sighed heavily. He knew he was the Emperor. He knew his word was law. He knew he could have whatever he wanted.

But the truth was, he didn’t want her to sleep in a separate bedroom. He didn’t want to be parted from her at night—which was virtually the only time they were able to spend together. So he relented, giving her a stiff nod.

He would just have to be extra careful not to kill her.

At that, she softened, leaning up on her toes, craning her neck to stare upwards into his eyes. Kylo supported her head with his hand, letting it rest gently in his palm.

“It must be terrifying. Having a nightmare about someone you trust.” Her brows rose, as if waiting for the validation that it was true—that he trusted her.

Kylo’s teeth clenched. “I’ve never been able to trust anyone before. You’re…you’re the only person I have who-who _sees_ me.” His words were broken and ragged, as if he was trying to swallow them back down as soon as he’d spoken them. As if he was fighting the swelling emotion spreading in his chest, choking him.

“Kylo. Come here.” Her voice was breathy and urgent as she tugged him against her, finding his lips with hers and pressing firmly against him.

Finally, he relaxed completely, melting into her arms as she melted into him. She was warm and solid, fingers feeling like little pricks of electricity against his skin. He shuddered, letting his tongue venture deeper, pressing between her soft, wet lips. He trembled, feeling his cock stir all over again. His brow knit. Kriff, her body was divine, but if anything was driving him forward now, it was the realization that she wasn’t going to turn on him.

All his life, anyone who had ever claimed to care about him wanted him to live up to another standard. Wanted him to be the next Skywalker or the next Vader. At last, he had someone in his arms who just wanted Kylo. She wanted him.

She was his.

He growled against her lips, urgency mounting within his body as his erection pulsed against her stomach. She whimpered at the feeling, at the sensation of it leaking across her skin. Her mouth was just as desperate, though, kissing him like her life depended on it.

He whirled her around so she faced the balcony, catching herself on her forearms, supported by the cold, stone railing. Kylo stared down at the curve of her arched back, and shuddered out a shaky exhale, breath fanning her cool skin, the sheet enveloping the both of them, together.

“Princess,” he panted, pressing his brow to the back of her head.

She gasped softly, pressing herself back against him, a hand reaching back to stroke his hair.

“I need you,” he breathed.

“I know,” she whimpered. “I have you.”

A part of him didn’t understand it. His desire for her didn’t have an end. It kept going and going, past the point when he should have had enough, should have been _bored_ of her. But he never grew bored or tired. He only ever seemed to ache for her more and more.

Honestly, it felt strangely like a curse.

But like the best kind of curse that could have stricken him.

His hands fumbling as he grasped his leaking cock, pressing it to her entrance and pushing inside her warm, silky walls.

“ _Fuck,”_ he groaned loudly, the sound falling on the back of her neck. More wordless strain ripped from his throat as his hips found a rhythm. Part of him wanted to fuck her wildly, like an animal, but he realized suddenly that it didn’t always have to be that way. Kylo fucked her slowly, letting her enjoy every torturous inch, letting _himself_ enjoy the knowledge that there was no reason to rush.

She was his.

And they had all the time they could ever want.

He pressed his lips into the curve of her neck, rolling his hips slowly against her ass. She writhed beneath him, elbows digging painfully into the stone surface of the rail. He knew, because his arms were braced on either side of her, and it hurt like a bitch. But she didn’t complain. She hummed in pleasure, and something inside of Kylo swelled in satisfaction—hearing her little noises, hearing her lose herself was something he didn’t think he would ever manage to get used to.

He lowered his dominant hand, reaching between her legs. Princess grabbed the sheet, keeping it snug around their shoulders while he began to rub circles against her clit. The Force worked wonders, but touching her himself, _feeling_ her—there was nothing better than that.

“Kylo,” she breathed, tilting her head back. He pulled away and saw that she was staring at the sky.

It was filled with stars. The sky was scattered with them, littered with their light. He looked out towards the water, hips still thrusting slowly, and saw that the light was reflected onto the lake. 

And across the stars, he could only imagine what else there was. It took his breath away. Or maybe _she_ took his breath away.

He grunted, low and loud and raw. Princess hummed in response. Her legs were already shaking. She was already close.

She was so slick and tight that Kylo was already close, too. He could feel her cum wetting his thighs. His teeth clenched in response—it was so fucking hot, how much she was drenching the both of them. He loved making a mess of her. He loved everything about fucking his Princess.

“Oh, fuck,” he growled against her ear, pounding her a little more relentlessly, fingers rapid against her swollen clit. “Fuck, you feel so fucking perfect. You’re so tight for me. So perfect.”

“Kylo, please,” she whimpered.

“You need to cum?”

She bubbled out a string of moans and mewls, nodding fervently against him. Her hair brushed his cheek as she did.

“Cum for me,” he told her. “Cum for me, I have you.”

Her legs buckled, but true to his word, Kylo tightened his grip around her, plastering her against his body as her body wracked with deep trembles. She cried out, cumming forcefully on his cock, walls fluttering and pulsating around his cock. He could feel every twinge of her muscles, and the sound of his name off her lips sounded like heaven. He wanted to last longer, wanted it to last forever, wanted her to keep cumming, keep screaming. He wanted to fuck her for an eternity.

But again, he came too fast for comfort, just as he had at the wedding reception. It was terrifying, how quickly she could make him cum, especially when he was already feeling raw. But it felt so fucking good, that for the first time, he considered that maybe the fear he felt wasn’t worth fighting.

“ _Fuck,”_ he snarled, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his brow against her temple as he released himself deep inside her, flooding her cunt with ropes of cum, filling her with every drop of his desire. He was still supporting her limp body, and he let their weight fall onto his forearm that was still braced on the railing of the balcony. He was dizzy and shaking, struggling to keep them both standing, but he wouldn’t have dropped her. Not a chance.

Pressing her to the railing, Kylo let his forehead fall to her shoulder, inhaling deeply against her skin. He held her upright with strong arms, hips rolling slowly against her as she caught her breath.

Kylo pulled his cock free, wincing from the overstimulation.

“Kylo,” she murmured.

Princess didn’t protest as he scooped her up off the ground, lifting her into his arms. Instead of arguing, she just nestled her head against his chest. She looked so perfect like that—lips pouty, eyes fluttering shut. It was rare to see her look so gentle and soft. Kylo adored her fire, but he wanted to appreciate the rarer moments as well.

Gently, he nestled her into bed before curling up beside her, throwing the sheet on top of their bodies. Propping himself on his elbow, he stared down at her. In the low moonlight, the Sarrassion iron of her choker shone brilliantly. Princess was right. It was almost glowing. And on her, it looked perfect.

His fingers trailed the stones that lined the center of her neck. He glanced at the wedding ring, too. The Sarrassian iron had been a good choice.

“Red suits you,” he muttered.

Kylo said nothing else as he snuggled into the pillows, dragging Princess to drape across his chest where she belonged. His mind lingered on the necklace and the ring. On of the dark energy that flowed through the veins of the metal coursing through her jewelry, binding her. She was such a feisty, sweet Princess for him.

And soon, with the help of the Dark Side, she’d be fit to be an Empress.

And they would rule the galaxy.

_Together._


	19. Rage, Fury, and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER NOTES: Thank you so much to queen @RIP_quizilla for helping me find some inspiration for the spicy scene. It wouldn't have happened without her. If you guys haven't read her fic "The Brighter Dark" yet, do yourselves a favor and do so!
> 
> TW: Y'all.....please use a safeword. 
> 
> Dion Lee Spring 2020 ready to wear look 8
> 
> I highly recommend listening to "Up Is Down and the Battle of Heroes" by Samuel Kim during the TIE battle scene. I listened to it upwards of 100 times while preparing for and writing this scene, and I loved it! Please enjoy the following 10,000 words.

"This isn't how I thought I'd be spending my time as a newlywed," Princess huffed, removing her helmet and throwing down her staff, bracing herself on her knees.

"Shut up and pick your weapon back up," Kylo said, twirling his weapon and assuming his stance, low and ready to take her attack.

"I'm tired," she complained.

He and Princess had been training with the staffs every day for the past three weeks since returning from Varykino. Every day, she was growing stronger and more attentive. And every day, she complained without fail, like the little fucking brat she was.

 _His_ little brat.

And to be fair—she _looked_ tired. She may have been his Princess, but Kylo wasn't about to half-ass his training regardless of who he was teaching. If anything, her potential was almost unmatched. And as a result, Kylo only went harder on her.

"So?" he countered.

Princess bounded forward, huffing through her breathlessness. And if it wasn't clear to Kylo already that those batting eyelashes were going to be the fucking death of him, it certainly was now.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and he stared down at her with a glance of warning, spine going straight. She was sweating and looked _strong._

Princess's fingers trailed his belt, lingering over his lightsaber.

"When do I get one of these?" she huffed

"When you show me you have even a fraction of the patience of any apprentice half your age," he grumbled, seizing her wrist roughly in his hard. She yelped at the sudden contact, wincing as Kylo gripped her— _hurting_ her, but not _too_ much. Mostly just to instill a healthy amount of fear. He dipped down, lips nearly brushing against hers. "And don't touch that," he warned.

Princess's breath hitched; Kylo wasn't sure if she was scared or turned on. If he'd done his job right, she was both.

"You've been training me with the staff for three weeks. I'm ready for the real thing," she argued, nodding towards his saber.

"If you have to insist you're ready, then you're not ready."

"But-"

"Would you rather I send you off with Maxir and Kuna to meditate again?"

The two of them had the fucking day off apparently, or rather, had offered to help train Princess. For whatever fucking reason, Kylo agreed to let them stand by in case they could be of use. The two of them were sitting on the steps of the courtyard, not proving to be much help. But they sure as hell were enjoying the show.

"They made me meditate for _four hours_ yesterday."

"And it paid off. You were finally able to levitate the rocks," Maxir offered with a grin, obviously trying to be kind.

Princess grumbled. "I'm not training with you guys so I can lift pebbles," she muttered, scuffing the ground with her foot.

Kylo knew she was frustrated. Three weeks of tireless meditation and training, and all she'd been able to manage was lifting three or four pebbles with her mind. It wasn't the first time she'd used the Force, and it certainly wasn't her most impressive feat. But what she was lacking in her ability to move objects with her mind was made up in how easily she could peek into Kylo's. Thankfully, there hadn't been another incident of accidental thought-reading. Kylo remained on high alert; if Princess saw into his thoughts, saw that he'd intentionally had his blacksmith forge Sassarrian iron into her wedding jewelry in order to influence her towards the Dark Side...well, that was an argument Kylo wasn't ready to have.

And with any luck, he never would. He would train her abilities, and most importantly, he'd train her not to use them on himself.

"Try picking up your staff," Kuna suggested. "Without touching it."

Princess shot him a look, but begrudgingly shuffled over to where her staff was lying on the ground. Exhaling on a huff, she rolled her eyes as she stuck out her hand to hover above the staff. Kylo's eyes narrowed as he watched her intently. She was deep in focus, her brow knit, but there was so much obvious frustration threaded onto her features. It was working against her. Her mind needed to be clear in order to master the Force. But it was too full of doubt and impatience.

The staff twitched on the ground, and Kylo's breath stalled in anticipation.

It began to jerk in different directions, as if tempted to fly to her hand.

Kylo could sense Kuna and Maxir leaning forward in anticipation, too. Princess's brow twitched, as if she felt something. Connection. A pull. The staff rose two or three inches above the ground-

And then clattered back to the stone floor of the courtyard.

" _Fuck!"_ she snapped, kicking the staff. " _I hate this!"_

Kylo's heart clenched; sometimes, she reminded him _so much_ of himself. Plus, even when Princess was angry, she was just so fucking cute and endearing. The corners of his lips twitched, but he straightened his back, determined to show her some discipline, like any good master should.

"Pick it back up," he told her. "We're not done yet."

"Actually," Gil's voice sounded suddenly from the palace, huffing with air as he descended the steps into the courtyard. Kylo straightened his back, lowering his weapon. He hadn't expected to be interrupted. "I've just spoken with the Grand Moff. She wants to see you, Master."

Kylo's eyes had trailed back to Princess, but at Gil's announcement, he growled, tearing himself away from her and towards Gil. "This can't wait?" he snapped.

"Afraid not, Master."

Grumbling, Kylo dropped his weapon before pounding across the courtyard to reach Princess. She stared at him expectantly. They'd been married for three weeks now, and still, he hadn't gotten used to it. Hadn't gotten used to that wide, lost look in her eyes. Every time he looked at her, he felt like he was drowning.

Kylo planted himself in front of her, stroking a gloved finger down her jaw. "I want you to be ready for me when I return this evening, Mrs. Ren."

"Yes, Master Ren," she whispered with a grin.

Kylo smirked, lowering his face towards her, capturing his lips. Princess mewled against him as he kissed her obscenely, lips parted lazily, tongue licking into her mouth. He heard Kuna and Maxir snicker from behind him, but didn't care. He wrapped a hand around her middle and let it snake down to grab her ass. He was enjoying putting on the show for Gil, but also realized that the longer he kissed her, the harder it would be to pull away. So finally, he cut himself off, drawing away and immediately setting towards the steps.

"Wait for me in my quarters," he called over his shoulder. "I want you wearing the jewels. And nothing else." Kylo smirked, shooting Gil a look of satisfaction before ducking back into the palace.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

"I've decided that the Sith Troopers will be adequate security for my coronation," you told Gil, pulling off your gloves as the two of you walked briskly through the palace. "I want all of the Knights in attendance. As guests. Oh, and remind me to thank the new ambassador from Coruscant for the gifts."

"Looks like she's trying to secure her good graces after Kylo had Ambassador Dara killed."

"I know, but she at least seems competent. She's right not to want to get on Kylo's bad side. And the best way to do that is to not get on mine."

You and Gil were bustling down the corridors, side-by-side, fresh off of another flying practice. Whenever you knew Kylo was occupied, you and your bodyguard liked to escape to the hangar and take the TIE fighter far enough away so you wouldn't be seen by the watch towers. All in all, you'd only had three lessons total. You weren't nearly as good a pilot as Gil, but you liked that your days were filled with training and learning.

Even if your Force-powers weren't progressing as well.

You were tugging off your gloves as Gil escorted you back to Kylo's quarters. You knew he'd be gone until well after sundown, but it was getting late, and you wanted to be ready—even if you had countless other things on your mind.

Evander, for one thing. He hadn't come to see you like he said he would, though you supposed he was probably still trying to figure out how to get into the castle again. You hadn't been very helpful, but there wasn't much you could do for him. You had your mission, and he had his. It was imperative that you stayed focus.

"Oh," you added, "and I decided what I want to be served after my coronation. Steamed lizard crab."

"I like hanging around you, Princess, but I'm not your secretary."

"I know, but remind me to remind Kylo to find me one. I can hardly keep up with all this bullshit," you sighed. Planning a coronation was hell, and you weren't even the one doing most of the planning.

The one good thing was that it was going well with Kylo. Whenever he could sneak away from the Moffs and officials during the day, he was training you. You'd spent every night since the wedding in his apartments. And it seemed that the nightmares were finally gone.

"It's only a week away," Gil said—as if you needed a reminder. "Are you ready?"

Your impending coronation was weighing heavily. When you'd taken the assignment to spy on the Final Order, you didn't completely expect the coronation to even happen, because you thought the Resistance would have attacked by then. It seemed that the stars had aligned in such a way that the Resistance needed more time—and you were about to become the Empress. But that was fine by you. Things were going well with Kylo, but you needed more time with him too, to make sure that when the time came, he'd turn back to the light.

"I try not to think about it too much," you told him, but to be honest, something inside you was flickering with excitement. You tried to ignore it, unable to even place what it was.

You and Gil landed outside of Kylo's quarters, one of the six Sith Troopers stationed outside opening the doors for you. A lot had change since the day you first burst in unannounced.

"I think the 'troopers have guard duty under control. You're free to go if you'd like."

"You don't want company?" he asked.

"Don't you want to go to the barracks? You're so busy with me that you hardly get to see the other Knights anymore."

"Emperor's Cup can wait," Gil murmured, brushing past your shoulder with a sly grin to step into Kylo's empty apartments.

A half hour later, you and Gil had broken into Kylo's Spiran caf stock, and were drinking on the lounge chairs, discussing everything that had happened in the courtyard earlier that day.

"I just don't get it. I'm ready for a lightsaber."

"You're not ready," Gil said, shaking his head and setting his empty glass down on the end table. "You're still learning the basics."

"Of levitating shit with my mind, yeah, but I can fight almost as good as _all_ of you guys."

"That doesn't mean you're ready for a lightsaber."

You grumbled, placing down your glass and flopping against the back of the couch. "I don't know why he's being so fucking weird about it. He won't even let me touch _his_ lightsaber."

"Somehow I doubt that."

You narrowed your eyes at Gil, shooting him a look when you realized he was making a joke. "Don't be gross," you warned, tossing a throw-pillow at his face. He caught it with a grin; his reflexes genuinely knew no match. Gil saw _everything_ coming.

"Can I give you some advice?" he asked you, cocking a brow.

You gave him a vague, muffled noise of approval, crossing your arms in frustration.

"You're way too eager for it. Master will never give you your own weapon as long as you're begging. You have to be decisive. Pick your battles. Be subtle."

"I don't do subtle," you grumbled.

And it was the truth. You had a different idea entirely of how you might convince Kylo to give you your weapon.

Gil left a short while later; you knew he'd need to be long gone by the time Kylo arrived. Once you were alone, you shed your clothing, eager for Kylo to return to his quarters for the night.

Your choker and ring had been left in Kylo's apartment—you'd woken up there that morning before you'd gone to practice. In fact, you were spending so much time in his quarters that much of your belongings were beginning to take over his space. Clothing, jewelry, books, makeup...Kylo's apartments were truly starting to look like you shared them; no one would have guessed you had your own living space.

It was simple, really. You just preferred to stay with Kylo whenever you could.

You slipped on the choker after you undressed, and gently, your ringed finger trailed the glistening red stones around your neck.

You may have been born a Princess, but you'd been a Princess during a time of war and destruction. You weren't easily seduced by glittering jewels, and you honestly didn't care much for material things.

But knowing that Kylo had taken the time, had _thought_ about you, was showering you with gifts to win your favor—it made your entire body flutter.

Humming softly, you decided to run a bath next. Kylo had told you to put on the jewelry but he'd never told you to wait for him in his bed. Pouring some bubble bath into the tub, you let the water rise to the top. Then, you slipped inside, resting your head and stretching your legs, letting yourself relax.

Kylo never showed back up to his apartments when he said he would; he almost always worked later than expected. As a result, you'd drifted asleep in the warm bathwater, only awakening to the sound of someone entering the refresher.

Kylo was gazing down at you, standing next to the tub, something dark flickering beneath his eyes. He'd already shed his helmet, and was standing directly above you. It wasn't a bad sight to wake up to.

"Your Imperial Majesty," you lilted, batting your eyelashes.

Kylo took your chin in his hands, pulling your gaze farther up towards him. His touch was light but commanding—a subtle but unmistakable threat. His leather gloves were warm against your skin.

"Don't bat those pretty eyes at me," he murmured. "You misbehaved today."

Maneuvering yourself onto your knees, you kept your gaze locked with his, and his fingers never left your face. Kylo happened to have several things that you wanted. The first, and perhaps most obvious, was his body, his lips, his hands. The second, however, was something else entirely. Kylo was right. You had misbehaved today.

Because you wanted that lightsaber. You were ready.

"Whatever do you mean?" you breathed, making a bit of a performance, feigning innocence as you stared up at him, wide-eyed and expectant, lips parted. His thumb slid to rest on the plush flesh of your lower lip. You resisted the urge to pull it into your mouth, run your tongue over the smooth leather.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. You've been a bad girl."

"I haven't been a bad girl," you told him, squeezing your thighs together, trying to focus on what you wanted.

"Is that so?" he purred, raising his brows. "Then we can move on from our discussion in the courtyard today."

"Well I-"

"Hmm." Kylo hummed in satisfaction, letting out a small breath of laughter, or frustration--funny how you couldn't tell which it was. He took a few paces away from you, undoubtedly excited to have caught you in an attempt to seduce him. Gazing at his back, you vaguely saw him reach into his belt. When he turned around, he was holding a small, shiny object in his hand.

You stared at the object twirling between Kylo's fingers, brow knit in curiosity and caution. As he took slow strides towards you, your stomach plummeted as you realized what it was: a blade.

"All week, you haven't shut up about how much you want one of these," he said, patting where the hilt of his saber rested in his belt. "It only goes to show how little you appreciate a more...traditional weapon."

Kylo waved the weapon, landing in front of you. You stopped breathing. And then, he knelt down, pressing the tip of the dagger to your cheek.

"They're so much more intimate, don't you think?" he mumbled, dragging the blade lightly down your cheek; enough to prickle, not to hurt. Not nearly enough to draw blood, though the threat was clear.

Your breath hitched again; you felt choked by fear, and could feel your lower lip quivering. But your stomach was stirring with warmth. You wondered if he could sense that, too.

His eyes were glued to your chest as it rose and fell, taking in the dramatic jut of your collarbone as you tried without success to steady your breath. He moved the tip of the knife to press against your sternum.

Kylo hummed. "Personally, I'd say this feels _very_ intimate."

A small stutter of breath bubbled from your lips. Suddenly, you felt warm.

"Sit up," he growled suddenly.

Your eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you couldn't even process what he was saying to you. You couldn't process _anything._ Not with that knife in your face. You were on your knees but sitting back on your heels, most of your torso still submerged under the waterline of his massive bathtub, eyeing him. You were sitting up already. What more did he want from you?

So you cocked a brow in response, eyes darting towards the knife. He wouldn't use it. Wouldn't dare. He liked your face how it was—pretty and unharmed. You inhaled, eyeing him with satisfaction.

"Make me," you told him.

He looked at you in silence for a few moments, nodding his head slightly, as if pondering your response and attempting to accept it.

But instead of accepting it, and instead of arguing, Kylo seized you by the neck, lifting you. You felt your knees lift off the floor of the tub as he stuck two gloved fingers into your mouth, still clenching the knife against his palm. You clawed at his chest, seizing his tunic in fists to offset your weight, but your airway was nearly completely clenched.

Your head swam as the shiny, metal blade flashed in your vision. Instantly, you were melting underneath Kylo's fingertips, panic and fear and _desire_ mounting in your body. His lips were set in a quivering scowl as he fucked your mouth with his fingers, teasing the back of your throat. He added a third, fingers so far down your throat that you could feel the hilt of the knife scraping your teeth. He hummed when he heard you begin to gag.

A few seconds passed, and he snatched his hand away, wrenching you upright by the hair, yanking you backwards so your face was forced towards the ceiling and your neck exposed, curved and elegant. 

And then he dropped you. You flopped back into the water, sputtering as waves splashed your face, drenching you. " _Fuck_!" you sputtered, gulping for air, gasping dramatically. Your knees clattered against the floor, and shooting pains erupted throughout the lower half of your body. Your chest heaved, breasts rising above the waterline, water sloshing across your chest, disrupted from the sudden movement. Waves sloshed around your body, licking angrily at your skin.

Suddenly, the knife was against your cheek again. Kylo was still gripping you, and you squirmed beneath him, head spinning. All you knew what that you felt woozy and warm with desire. You pressed your thighs together again, writhing madly. His eyes drank you in—the water and tears streaming down your face, droplets pooling with your mascara and streaking across your cheeks.

"I can do this all night, Princess," he breathed. "Are you going to behave for daddy?"

Your lips parted, a gentle 'o' forming on your lips, brows lifting in surprise. Your body pooled with heat and your breath hitched wildly, almost choking you; you hadn't expected that. But now that you'd heard it, you were dripping for more.

"Mmm," he hummed, dragging the knife down your jaw until it was pressed under your chin, fingers clenching your hair. His eyes trailed your face, drinking in the clear rapturous agony threaded onto your features, seizing you with want. "You _are_ a naughty girl, aren't you?"

Writhing again, a whimper fell from your lips. You'd wanted so badly to be strong, to stand your ground against him. Had you really thought you were going to seduce Kylo Ren into giving you what you wanted?

The knife dragged down you throat, pricking at your skin. You trembled, and Kylo hummed in response once again. "I think that might have shut you up, Princess, what do you think?"

You moaned, the sound bubbling sadly from your lips. Heat exploded throughout your core.

"What's that?" he murmured, leaning in closer, yanking back on your hair. You released a yelp, your eyes prickling with tears. "Are you trying to say something, Princess? You can tell me. I know you can be a good girl for daddy."

You were heaving for air, bathwater and tears blinding you, every inch of you dripping and desperate for release. But the satisfaction in his voice—you couldn't take it. Couldn't let him win. Not when you _wanted_ something. So you mustered every ounce of strength you had left, scrounging in all the depths of your being to put on a brave face. Then, you parted your lips, and spoke:

" _Bite me, daddy_."

Kylo growled in fury. And you were laughing as he wrenched at your scalp, rising to his feet.

It seemed he'd sheathed his knife, but he was just getting started. Kylo hastily ripped open the fastening of his pants, pulling his cock free and stroking it roughly above your face. You stopped laughing.

You inhaled, seizing his thighs, staring up at him with an undeniable eagerness. You were aching for him. You didn't even care where you took him. All you knew was that you were desperate.

He stared down at you as he stroked his cock, admiring how broken you looked: heaving for air, still coughing and sputtering. Your makeup was running down your face, hair a wet clump in his grip. He didn't ask for permission—just forced his cock between your lips. You groaned as you eagerly wrapped them around the base.

" _Fuck,"_ he stuttered, the sound quivering as he released it. He shoved himself down your throat without warning. You were still coughing from the water you inhaled, and he'd given you no time to adjust. You gagged around his outrageous size stuffing your mouth, your fingers gripping his pants, as if holding onto him was going to help you. It wouldn't.

You pulled yourself off of him, gasping, ropes of drool flinging from the tip of his cock to land on your chin. He groaned at the sight, his cock throbbing in his hand. "Fuck, you look perfect," he groaned, plunging himself back down your throat. "That's right, take all of it, baby. Fuck...you're not such a brat now, are you? Not with daddy's cock stuffed down your throat."

You groaned, the sound muffled around his dick. His grip on the back of your head relented, so you went to work: pumping your lips up and down his shaft, greedily slurping, lips sliding all over the mess of wetness that had spilled all over him.

"Such a fucking whore," he growled, beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth in earnest. You writhed your thighs together, feeling the beginnings of tears spill over your cheeks. Gods above, this was so fucked, but it felt blindingly, blazingly perfect.

"I can't even decide where I want to cum. You'd look so pretty swallowing, but I don't even know if you deserve to taste me."

You gargled, feeling drool pool at your chin but shuddering despite yourself. Your small noises elicited groans of approval from Kylo as he thrusted himself down your throat. You were a mess of spit and flushed skin and wetness, the picture of lost control. And it ignited you. Freed you. You sank into the sheer release of your inhibitions, moaning as you choked around his cock.

Kylo's jaw was set tightly, and he growled through his clenched teeth. "Stand up," he ordered, but he didn't even give you a chance to comply. He wrenched you upright by the hair and you screaming at the pain, neck thrown towards the ceiling. Then, he slammed you onto of the wash basin. Your torso hit the counter with a thud, palms smacking obscenely against the surface, echoing, filling ever corner of the room.

"Fucking whore," he repeated, giving you no chance to prepare yourself before he plunged his cock deep inside of you.

You gasped, and only then did you notice his hand was wrapped against your throat. His fingers tightened against your skin and as you inhaled, the sound choked and wavering. His other hand was pressed into the small of your back, ensuring you were arching your spine. You kept your ass as high in the air for him as you possible, desperate to take him as deeply as you could.

" _Fuck,"_ you sputtered, the sound trembling.

He couldn't have possibly been fucking you any more differently than he had in Varykino. The tender, attentive Kylo you'd come to know on your honeymoon was nowhere to be found. This wasn't just sex; this was punishment and power.

You caught sight of your red choker in the mirror, the red stones and diamonds glistening radiantly.

Punishment and power looked pretty damn good.

"Fuck, you don't even deserve this, do you know that?" he asked, landing a sharp smack onto your ass cheek, blinding you with pain. "You don't even deserve to get fucked, but this pussy's too fucking tight to pass up. You know that don't you, Princess?" he asked, his words wavering with every thrust of his hips. He wrenched your head upright so his lips brushed the shell of your ear. "Girls who misbehave don't deserve to get fucked like this."

Your jaw fell slack and you cried out, body ramming against the counter with every rough thrust. Suddenly, your lightsaber was the farthest thing from your mind.

"Fuck! _Kyloohmyfuckinggodsplease!"_ you screamed.

"If you want to cum, you better show me you can behave."

"Please, I'll do anything," you sobbed, feeling him plummet you towards your release. Heat was blooming inside of you dangerously fast. And cumming without permission wasn't going to help your case.

His hands released your throat, but in the next instant, you felt two of his fingers slip beneath your choker at the nape of your neck. The chain of diamonds clenched you, all but cutting off your airway. You tried to gasp, but you couldn't. Your head was reeling.

"You better tell daddy how much you need it. Beg for it, whore."

The arch in your back deepened, and your belly exploded with warmth. You cried and whimpered, feeling him ram into your cervix. And still, you didn't want him to stop.

"Please, I _do_ need it," you breathed. "You feel so fucking good, Kylo, filling me up And-and _fuck,_ I'm so tight, daddy, can you feel how much you're stretching me?"

You moaned deeply as his fingers sank into your hip, and your gaze locked with his in the mirror. You loved hearing him lose control. Loved that hungry, fervent look in his eyes. Humming deeply, trying to swallow back a moan, you stared deeply into Kylo's reflection. He stared into the very depths of your soul as he pounded into you, fingers tightening the grip on your necklace.

" _Fuck,"_ he echoed, suddenly yanking himself off of you to spin you around and throw you on top of the counter. Your lips parted and you gasped for air as he released the crushing grip around your windpipe. As your ass hit the surface, Kylo's lips were crashing against yours, a hand snaking around the back of your neck to force you against him. You moaned into his mouth, wracking your hips forward to meet him as he plunged into you once again.

"Kylo," you mewled, rapidly rolling your hips forward, writhing on top of the counter to meet his thrusts. His fingers dug into your skin, making their mark, inking bruises and welts, pure art against the landscape of your skin. The trailed up your hips, working their way up your ribcage. He growled into your parted lips, tongue sliding against yours.

"You're so lucky this pussy is so fucking good," he breathed into your mouth. "Otherwise, there'd be no telling what I'd do to you."

You shuddered under his touch, feeling as though you could melt beneath him until you were nothing more than a sad puddle at his feet.

"Tell me who you belong to," he hissed, fisting your hair and yanking your head backwards so his lips could press against your throat.

Already, you were dangerously close, just a hairsbreadth from falling over the edge. "Kylo," you mewled.

In a sudden rage, Kylo lifted his hand. You knew what was coming before you could even prepare yourself. You gasped as his palm struck the side of your face, yelping once he'd nearly forced you to topple over.

"Daddy," you choked. "I belong to daddy."

He hummed in approval, pressing his forehead against yours, his hand an anchor in your hair. "I knew you could be a good girl for me."

You lips parted and you released something of a gleeful, wicked laugh, moaning as he pounded you towards your release. "Kylo-" you warned.

"Cum for me, whore," he ordered, staring into your eyes with an intensity that set your entire soul ablaze.

If he'd given you permission a second later, it would have been too late. You sank into the pleasure, letting your orgasm overtake you, exploding inside your skin and sizzling you to the very bone. Your spine went rigid and you threw your head back, feeling Kylo bury his face into your chest somewhere along the way, though you were almost in too much of a haze to realize he'd done it. As you felt yourself fall into the throngs of gravity once again, Kylo's lips were working urgently to suck and kiss across your chest. He growled as he released himself inside of you, pumping you deep and hard, mouth wet and boundless as it dragged against your skin, desperate and hungry. Soon, his hips stilled, and it left the both of you a panting, sweating mess.

Collapsing against his body, you sighed as he felt his arms wrap around your middle. You felt the familiar kiss on the side of your head, and you closed your eyes. Snuggling against him, nuzzling deeper, you hummed.

"Get in the bath with me," you breathed.

"I can't, Princess."

Just barely, you were able to draw away, though your limbs were spent and shaking. "What?" you asked him, brow knitting in disappointment.

He palmed the side of your face, looking down at you. "There are a few things I have to finish up tonight. I don't think I'll be back until morning. Something about our trade routes."

"You're joking," you breathed.

"I wish I was," he grumbled. After he readjusted himself, he stepped away from you, only far enough to scoop you into his arms and lower you gently in the bath. He knelt next to the tub, stroking your hair.

"I want you to stay," you mumbled.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he told you. He pressed another kiss to the side of your head, but after a few more blissful moments, he was gone.  
  
  


You stayed in the bath for a while, then climbed into bed without bothering to get dressed. You weren't sure how long you'd been asleep, only that you'd been out like a light. The next thing you knew, someone was bursting into the room and you were sitting up in bed, glancing out the window and noticing that it was still very dark out.

"Gil," you stammered, pressing the sheets against your chest.

But he wasn't even look at you; the Knight was too busy scooping up your clothes from off the floor, tossing them in your direction. Your pants hit you square in the face, so you were angry before you were confused. "What the hell?" you shouted.

"Get dressed. We have to get you on the transport."

Your brows knit deeply, and you gave him a look of exasperation. "Care to elaborate?" you snapped.

"The castle's under attack. We need to go. Now. The Night Buzzard is waiting for us."

"I...what?" you asked, your mind unable to keep up with the weight of his words.

"Can you get dressed please?" he hissed.

"Can you _turn around_ please?" you shot back at him.

He was able to let go of some of his obvious panic and give you a look of impatience. "There's no need to be discreet. I could hear the both of you from the other side of the hallway." Still, he turned his back to you, allowing you to change in privacy.

Not even bothering to blush, yanked your undershirt over your head, feeling a sudden rush of panic. "Is it the Resistance?" you asked him, matting around the mattress for your bustier and throwing it on haphazardly before yanking on your pants. You didn't even make an attempt to find your underwear.

"No," he said quickly. "It looks like Sith loyalists, but we're not sure."

"Sith loyalists?"

"Palpatine loyalists," he explained curtly. "People who don't think Kylo is as good an Emperor as the one who came before him."

You patted the floor for your boots, cursing under your breath. It was never easy to be thrust into reality after waking up so suddenly. Wrapping your mind around such a dire situation was difficult, the only solace you felt in the fact that the Resistance wasn't behind the siege.

"Have they broken through?" you asked, yanking on your shoes and overskirt.

"They're in the courtyards, but the way to the hangar is clear. We're evacuating you to Bespin."

"Bespin?!" you sputtered. "That's halfway to Mustafar. What about Kylo?"

"The Emperor insisted on fighting."

" _What?!"_ you all but shrieked, stumbling as you straightened your spine. "You're joking."

"I wish I was," he grumbled, leaping forward to grab you by the arm. "Now let's get out of here."

The empty corridor was eerie; there wasn't a trooper in sight. The hallway was totally deserted as you and Gil sprinted your way in the direction of the hangar, so deserted that all you could hear was your own pounding footsteps and heaving breaths echoing in the cavernous halls of Theed Palace as the two of you ran side by side.

Every inch removed between you and the hangar brought a mounting sense of panic. Inside the castle, everything was still.

But there was no telling what kind of chaos was erupting outside the walls.

Your mind was buzzing, though maybe it should have been. You had a clear path to escape. The Night Buzzard could surely withstand the firepower of rickety fighters built in secret by rickety Sith loyalists. A successful evacuation to Bespin was practically within your grip, you told yourself, trying to fasten the ties on your bustier as you sprinted into the hangar.

But all you could think about was Kylo Ren, and having to leave him behind.

Guns were firing in the distance; you could hear the telltale sound of TIE fighter canons and blasts from smaller ships.

He was out there somewhere, alone. The fucking idiot—the _backbone_ of the Order—had actually risked his life.

He wasn't a commander anymore. He wasn't supposed to throw himself into battle like he had when he was a soldier.

Kylo was the Emperor. And he was in danger.

You stopped shy of the ramp to the Night Buzzard; it was as if your legs wouldn't take you any further. If it were the Resistance, you wouldn't have wanted to fight. You would never raise a hand against your own people.

But these weren't your people.

"Gil," you breathed suddenly. "Get me onto a TIE fighter."

" _What?"_ he snapped.

"Let's go!" you shouted over your shoulder, breaking into a sprint in the directions of the smaller vessels.

" _PRINCESS!"_ he screamed. " _I WILL PICK YOU UP AND THROW YOU ONTO THE TRANSPORT IF I HAVE TO!"_

But you were too busy opening the hatch of a TIE fighter and throwing yourself inside of it, buckling your seatbelt and pressing the controls that put it into its launch position.

 _"PRINCESS!"_ Gil shouted, voice muffled through the metal and glass that separated you. " _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"_

 _"Saving my husband!"_ you shouted, flicking the switch that rose the fighter into its launch position. "Guess you don't have a choice; you have to come with me," you shouted over the whir of the engine with a grin. Gil was fast, but you were fast, too. And this time, you'd managed to outrun him.

He glared at you, though there was something deeper in his eyes. Panic. Bewilderment. He did several double-takes between you and the empty TIE fighter that stood beside yours. Finally, he grumbled, opening the hatch and leaping inside. You turned on your radio and heard his voice in an instant.

"I'm going to lose my fucking job. For real this time." You could hear the frantic clicking of buttons and switches as Gil prepped his vessel for launch.

"I'm going over all channels once we're out of the hangar," you said, feeling the enormous metal vessel rise into the air. The fighter swooned slightly as it launched, and then, suddenly, you were no longer on the ground.

"And Gil?" you added.

" _What_ ," he snapped.

"May the Force be with you," you breathed, flying towards the exit and into the cold, exhilarating night.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Naboo's night sky was littered with a thousand stars and half as many fighters; enemy vessels zoomed and hurtled in all different directions. But the Order's TIE fleet outnumbered them, even if not by much. Kylo was confident that the firepower of the Final Order would decimate the cultists, but at what cost? How many ships had been destroyed at Exegol? The Order's numbers had been cut in half, so cleanly wiped out that the fleet had yet to fully recover. He didn't need another setback. Couldn't even entertain the possibility. Failure wasn't an option.

If he didn't have the Order, he had nothing.

Kylo tore off his helmet for visibility, tossing it on the floor of his TIE fighter and squinting as his eyes adjusted to the night sky.

A ship zoomed over his head, far too close for comfort. Kylo's brow pinched as he stared up at it through the hatch. Whoever was flying that ship certainly would have failed piloting school. And whoever they were, they were firing at the enemy at far too close a range.

"You're not cleared to fly at that speed within the atmosphere," Kylo growled. "TIE/sf. Reduce speed and fall back. Stay with the fleet."

But then—over the radio, the transmission came through, riffled with eerie static:

_"Sorry. Just thought you boys could use some help."_

Kylo's blood ran cold as the transmission reverberated the unmistakable sound of TIE canon blasts—and they just kept going, one after the other. He shook his head, fingers clenching the steering mechanism so tightly that his knuckles were going white beneath his gloves. Every inch of him was trembling.

There was no way. There _couldn't_ be. Couldn't be Princess.

She didn't know how to fly a kriffing TIE fighter.

He adjusted the knobs on the radio as his heart leapt into his throat, ensuring the transmission would be clear.

"Who's on that TIE/sf?" he demanded. " _TIE/SF, COME IN. WHO IS ONBOARD?!"_

For several seconds, Kylo didn't breathe. But when somebody finally spoke, it was Gil.

"I tried to stop her, Master Ren." Another fighter zoomed above Kylo's TIE Dagger, presumably chasing after the more reckless ship. Gil. Kylo noted that the Knight sounded just about as exasperated as he felt.

"You didn't think you could ship me off to Bespin and make me leave my husband behind, did you?"

_Princess._

For a moment, Kylo actually thought he was going to be sick. His stomach roiled. But then, everything was just trembling. Vibrating. His nostrils were flickering, lips quivering as he stared helplessly at Princess's fighter as it hurtled through the night sky at a completely negligent speed. Choking on his own panic, Kylo realized that he couldn't even manage a few words—not even to warn Princess to get the hell away from the canonfire and back to the hangar so she could escape.

"Oh shit." Her voice came back over the radio, Kylo's ears perking, brows twitching upwards. His teeth were still clenched, quaking with the tension that had seized his entire body. "Shit, shit, I almost hit a tree. How do I turn this thing upside-down?"

"Do not turn it upside-down!" Gil shouted. " _Do not. Turn. It. Upside-down!"_

"Gil," Kylo stammered, trembling as his thumbs fired down on the canon buttons so hard, he nearly crumpled the entire steering mechanism in his hands. A cultish fighter went down in the distance. " _Get her back to the transport."_

"I told you he'd be angry, Princess," Gil said in a warning tone.

Kylo's mind was reeling so fast he actually felt _dizzy._ He'd never fainted before, but he was starting to consider the fact that the time for firsts might be upon him. He'd also never felt this panicked in a battle before. But Princess was rocketing through the sky, and the radio was picking up every canon blast, every whirl of a ship passing nearby, muddled with static and transmission interference. And he wanted more than anything to strangle Princess for being so stupid. And since strangling her wasn't an option, he had half a mind to scream at her over the radio.

But he couldn't.

Because he realized, stomach sinking, that it wasn't anger that he felt.

It was fear.

And for a moment, he didn't know what to do with it, because Kylo Ren hadn't been afraid to die for quite some time. That's why it was so easy for him to kill, too—he'd never had anybody to fear losing to death.

"Kylo, look out!"

Princess's fighter zoomed ahead of Kylo, making a wide turn, canon's firing in his direction. Kylo cursed aloud, maneuvering hastily to avoid the fire. But as he turned around, he saw no less than three cultist ships explode in mid-air.

" _I did it!"_ she cried over the transmission. "Kylo, Gil, did you see? I actually got one of them! _I got more than one of them!"_

His heart clenched in its cage, brow knitting at the sound of the glee in her voice. She was elated. Proud of herself. Those fighters would have blown Kylo to bits if she hadn't shot them down. He was so relieved she was alive that he wasn't angry she was using his first name across the radio—audible for every TIE pilot in Naboo to hear. Kylo wanted to be proud of her too, but he didn't have the time. His eyes were too focused on her TIE to notice the enemy ships hurtling in her direction.

"Kylo!" she echoed, as if to make sure he'd witnessed her accomplishment. "Did you see me? I-"

A deafening crash.

Kylo felt all the warmth leave his body as the fiery green blast from an enemy's ship made contact with Princess's fighter. His eyes were wide; he didn't want to watch, but for the life of him, he couldn't look away. It caught the wing of her ship, which stuttered in midair before reeling into the darkness, spinning madly as it shot towards the ground.

He knew he was screaming, but he couldn't even discern the words he was saying, if they were words at all. He couldn't hear anything, just his blood thumping in his ears so hard he thought it might crush his skull.

She couldn't die. _She couldn't._ Not her. Not Princess.

"-going after her, Master, cover me!"

He didn't register half of what Gil had said, but he'd heard _cover me._ That was enough. Kylo's lip curled in fury as he rocketed his ship towards the fighter that had taken down Princess. He aimed his canons, glowering with pure, raw hatred.

Kylo's canonfire caught the ship straight through the middle. It exploded into a fiery blast, and Kylo's entire face jerked with enraged, sadistic satisfaction.

Spurred by rage and fury and pain, Kylo shot through the sky. His speedometer blinked, flashing a bright red light of caution, warning him that he was flying too fast. He didn't care. Rage, fury, and pain were a deadly combination.

One fighter went down. And then another. And another. And another, until Kylo and the surrounding TIE pilots had blown every godsdamn cultist fighter into oblivion. But even once they were all gone, Kylo's blood was still stifling him.

"Gil," he choked, stunned by the sound of his own voice—hoarse and raw. "Do you have eyes on her?"

No answer.

 _"GIL!"_ Kylo bellowed.

"She landed on the rooftop of the factory, sir, the ship is intact! I think she may be alive, but I need to unboard."

For the first time in minutes, Kylo exhaled. He was holding onto hope by mere threads, and he didn't know whether or not to panic to save himself the crushing disappointment if she didn't make it. He was drawing shallow, ragged breaths as he set a course for the factory, squinting into the darkness.

Finally, she came into view, and Kylo stopped breathing all over again.

Her ship had landed and dragged across the cement surface, leaving behind a jagged crater where she had slid across the roof. Kylo could see Gil stumbling out of his ship, sprinting towards the wreckage. Kylo tried not to think about anything, tried not to let his mind get ahead of him as he landed his Dagger about thirty feet away from the crash site, far enough away so the wind wouldn't knock Gil clean off the roof.

Kylo's breath was uneven and hitched as he fought the constraints of the straps tethering him to his seat. His fingers were trembling so intensely that he could barely get himself free. For a moment, he thought he was going to sit in that fucking chair for an eternity fighting his own seatbelt.

But at last, he managed to pull himself free, stumbling out of the hatch and falling out of the fighter, catching himself on his hands and knees as he tried to draw steady breath. He had to keep it together.

He had to reach Princess.

There was smoke everywhere. It only made breathing all the harder. There were low flames around the crash site, but the fighter was intact, if a little smoldering. He could barely make anything out in the darkness. Once he neared the crashed ship, he found himself taking slow steps.

If he was about to find Princess's dead body, it wouldn't be something he could ever prepare himself for.

His eyes squinted through the smog as he made out the scene: Gil. With his back to Kylo. Kylo rounded the Knight, staring down in bewilderment, crippled by fear.

Gil was holding Princess in his arms, her unconscious body sprawled across his lap. Gil's fingers were pressed to her neck.

"She's alive," the Knight stammered suddenly, head whipping around to look up at Kylo.

A heavy breath kicked from Kylo's chest—so heavy, he thought he was going to throw up. He clenched the walls of his throat, trying not to lose control. After a few moments of staring down at Princess and Gil, he finally found his mind again.

Because she was _alive._

"Give her to me," Kylo sputtered, throwing himself to his knees and yanking her body towards him, cradling it in his arms. "Go radio for a medic," Kylo ordered. Gil didn't miss a beat, shooting to his feet and sprinting back to his ship.

Kylo felt for her pulse, only to reassure himself. It was there. But it was faltering. And she wasn't waking up. He found himself crippled by the throngs of panic all over again.

"Don't do this to me. Not-no. No. Not you. Please. Wake up. Wake up. _WAKE UP!"_ he bellowed, the sound tearing from his throat, forceful and hoarse.

Kylo began to shake her roughly by the shoulders, flecks of saliva escaping his teeth as he cried out, wordless mutterings of raw panic and desperation wracking from deep within his chest, ripping from his throat. All the while, he wrenched her by the biceps as if could shake and scream the life back into her.

She was dying. He was sure of it. She was going to leave him, too.

They always did.

He dropped her body to the rooftop, watching it flop weakly against the cold ground. Instantly, Kylo was standing, swallowing back the sobs threatening to wrack his body. The wind whipped his hair as he pulled out his saber. His foot hit the ground and the plasma blade ignited.

He needed to fucking kill something. Even if he didn't know where to start, even if they needed to bring him prisoners or even _citizens_ if need be, he needed to end somebody's life.

But then her eyes opened.

Every muscle in Kylo's body went rigid, every last ounce of breath abandoning his lungs. Relief washed over him until he saw the blinding red static of his blade reflected in her wide, fearful eyes.

Kylo clicked off his weapon. Dropped to his knees. He scrambled to gather Princess in his arms, cradling her head in his wide hand. It was so small in comparison. Her eyes were darting back and forth, as if she didn't realize where she was, didn't remember what happened. Or alternatively, she was trying to figure out why seconds before, her husband had been standing over her with an ignited lightsaber.

" _Shh. Shh, shh, shh,"_ he breathed, smoothing down the hair at the side of her face. His hand came back wet, and he swallowed down a surge of nausea. He flung over his shoulder. " _GIL! A MEDIC!"_ he growled.

"They're on the way, Master!"

Exhaling in relief, Kylo turned back to his Princess. She was stirring in his arms. Despite the blood, Kylo pressed his palm to her cheek. "Don't look around; look at me," he murmured.

Her eyes caught in his. There she was—bleeding onto his hands, body crumpled and bruised, still gazing at him like he was the starry sky over Varykino, an endless landscape of light.

She inhaled, twitching in his direction, as if her body was trying to reach for him. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"No, no. Stay still. Don't try and move," he said, voice eerily calm, not an accurate representation of how he truly felt. His mind was swimming with all the things that could have been wrong, the possibility of her having broken bones, and the possibility of the injuries worsening if she moved too much, of her bleeding out if he lifted her from the rooftop.

Kylo's brow twitched as he watched his name form on her lips. He readjusted himself, stretching out his legs to keep her draped across his lap.

"Can you talk? I know you're scared, but try and talk to me, Princess."

She inhaled, breath wheezing as it hitched its way into her throat. Her brows were twitching, so were her lips. Fear pooled in her eyes, but nonetheless, she parted her quivering lips, and managed to speak.

" _Fuck_ ," she coughed.

"Okay," Kylo murmured, entire body pooling with relief, as if he'd been plunged in a warm bath. He felt his muscles relax, tightening his grip around her. "You did good. Good girl."

"I brought down like three fucking ships," she gasped. Her eyes were unfocused. Kylo figured there was a strong chance she was in shock, or at the very least, the adrenaline had jolted her brain. He continued the slow motions of stroking her cheek, trying to keep her calm.

"I know," he told her. If she hadn't almost died, Kylo would have been _furious—_ furious enough to punish her in earnest, and not even in a fun way. But he was so relieved that she was alright that punishment was the furthest thing from his mind for the time being. "I know you did. You were my little hero."

"Master. I can see the medics."

This time, when Kylo turned to Gil, he looked and sounded much calmer. And the Knight was true to his word. Overhead, a small medical transport was lowering onto the roof, about fifty feet away. Kylo tried to shield Princess's body with his own as the wind currents began to whip around them.

"Holy shit. Holy shit...Kylo, if I die-"

"Don't," he snapped abruptly, then realized how abrasive he sounded. " _Don't say that,"_ he corrected himself, swallowing down his fear. "Don't ever say that. You're going to be just fine. The medics are coming. Just hold on a little while longer."

"But, Kylo-"

His brows knit. She was swooning, her eyes unfocusing all over again. Kylo gripped her, staring intently down into her eyes, eyes that seemed to carry the weight of the universe, the weight of his whole life.

"What is it?" he hissed through gritted teeth. "Princess. Princess, look at me."

But her eyes had already drifted shut just as Kylo finished begging her to stay with him. Her head went limp and Kylo's heart sank, but he felt for her pulse. It was still there. She was alive. Alive—and she was going to make it. Kylo looked over his shoulder and his eyes fell on four medics and a nurse, each of them sprinting in their direction with a repulsorlift stretcher in tow. The medics reached for her, but Kylo had practically ordered them to stand back. He lifted her gently, rising to his feet with Princess draped gracefully in his arms.

He lowered her onto the hover-stretcher and watched her slowly slide towards the transport. Then, he followed right behind her, Gil on his heels.

The ride back to the hangar was spent in silence. The palace had been cleared, the cultists decimated. The battle was won, but the cost had almost been entirely too great. Kylo sat silently in the corner of the medical transport for the entire journey, staring at Princess. It was short, but he was still bursting with impatience. Gil was pacing back and forth through the main hold. Neither of them spoke.

Princess was unconscious but her pulse was stabilized. Trauma to the head had left her with a concussion, and the skin had split open on her right temple. She had two broken ribs and a fractured shoulder in tow, too. Kylo clenched his teeth as they turned her onto her stomach, slicing her shirt down the middle with a large blade.

He was almost sick.

Princess's entire backside was littered with the angry beginnings of bruises, purpled with trauma, parts of her bleeding. While not much of her was broken, she was battered almost beyond belief.

She would be in pain, they warned him.

Kylo just grit his teeth in response, looking away.

When they landed in the hangar, the palace was bustling with 'troopers and officers scrambling to lock down the palace, finish sweeps, and ensure order was restored. Kylo had a job to do as Emperor but he wasn't even thinking about that. He followed the medics back to the hospital wing without a second thought. So when one of them planted himself in front of the Emperor, he was stunned to say the least.

Kylo stared at the man like he'd made a mistake, figuring he'd either lost his mind, or didn't recognize him without his helmet. He made a mental note to send one of the Knights back to the crash site to retrieve it.

"I highly suggest you step out of my way," Kylo growled.

"Your Imperial Majesty, Sir," the medic said quickly, planting himself into an at-ease position, legs spread and hands clasped behind his back, chin held high. He was gazing just off of Kylo's shoulder. He looked so infuriatingly militaristic, but he couldn't even look the Emperor in the eye. Perhaps that was the only way he could maintain his professionalism. "It is protocol, Sir, for no visitors to be permitted during surgery."

Kylo opened his mouth to argue—to ask if this man even knew who the hell he was speaking to, to _demand_ to be let into the infirmary to be with his Princess. But he couldn't even continue. Because suddenly, he heard a man clear his throat from behind him--the unmistakable indicator of an official announcing himself. Kylo fisted his hands, whipping over his shoulder, fury ablaze in his dark eyes.

It was Moff Oberon. Standing in that familiar at-ease position. His features were relaxed but there was something heavy behind his eyes.

"The castle was breeched, Your Imperial Majesty, Sir. The cultists have been destroyed and the castle is secure once again."

"I know that," Kylo growled, hitching forward onto his toes and clenching his hands into fists. He could feel his lips trembling in a deep rage and had no intention of trying to stop it. He had bigger things to worry about.

Oberon's gaze flickered down to his feet, and he set his jaw.

Kylo's brow twitched. "What is it?" he hissed.

"While we were able to reconquer the palace in a matter of minutes, Sir, we did suffer a number of casualties. Many Stormtroopers were lost, Sir. And..."

"And?" Kylo snapped. "And _who?"_ he snapped.

Moff Oberon's eyes rose, locking with Kylo's. "Regrettably, Sir, the Grand Moff was killed."

Kylo's brows knit together, and he set back on his heels. "That means..."

"That means, Sir, that I now have the pleasure to serve as your Second in Command."

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	20. War of Hearts

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

If it were up to Kylo, he would have stayed at Princess's side for the entirety of her recovery. But unfortunately, he still had other duties to attend to. After the cultist attack, insurrections were a topic of conversation like they'd never been before, which was saying something. The cultists couldn't have expected to win; if anything, it seemed like their idea of a noble suicide mission. But even so, no one had attempted to overthrow the Order before.

It felt like he was spending all of his times in council meetings. The security of Princess's coronation was a heavy question now, which was only worsening his stress. He sat in his throne, with his fists curled, joined by countless other council members positioned in a semi-circle in the court room, discussing how they were going to keep Princess alive. And that's how it had been for days.

Of course, whenever he could, he would visit Princess. Her shoulder was healed as was her concussion. It made Kylo ill to think about the fact that he wasn't there to help care for and comfort her, especially on the first night following the attack.

Finally, after several days, things began to calm down. They had redistributed the 'troopers to maximize security. The airfleet was cracking down on sweeps and surprise inspections. The cultists had been building a fleet on Mustafar. The day after the attack, the Order had paid Mustafar a visit. Suffice it to say that the Mustafarians were no more, and it was no longer an inhabited planet. Kylo should have wiped them out a year ago--as a matter of fact, he had tried. But worms liked to burrow beneath the dirt, out of sight.

However, it was beginning to look like the Order's reputation would recover from the attack. But on the off-chance he got to swing by the infirmary for a short visit, Princess was usually unconscious, or too dazed by her pain medications to speak to him. Or even to realize that he was there.

And that hurt.

He missed her, he realized.

Kylo was standing in the throne room after speaking to Captain Verse about 'trooper security for the coronation. He was eager to leave; it was his last bit of business for the day. Apparently, Princess had finally been allowed to leave the infirmary, and was back in her own room. He was anxious to go to her. But naturally, something stopped him, just about he was about to leave the throne room for the day.

"Sir." Kylo stopped in his tracks, turning. It was Grand Moff Oberon. _Newly appointed_ Grand Moff Oberon. Kylo grit his teeth. "As your advisor and second in command, I feel it's my duty to speak with you on the state of the galaxy."

Kylo didn't speak, or even look at Oberon, but that was permission enough to continue.

Oberon cleared his throat. "As you know, the Order hasn't really _done_ anything since Exegol."

Kylo felt his brow knit. _Done_ anything? Done anything--as in blow up planets? Kylo felt his teeth clench. So far, he didn't like Oberon. The Moff spoke of obliterating planets the same way a child might speak about playing with its favorite toys.

"There's nothing to be done," Kylo responded gruffly. "The galaxy is silent. Broken as it may be, I've never seen an era of peace like this in all of my years with the Order."

"Peace," Moff Oberon echoed, sliding the sound over his teeth, as if he could feel the word in his mouth but was trying desperately not to taste it. "Emperor-"

"What would you have me do?" Kylo snapped, whipping his head towards the Moff. "There are no disloyal planets left. Everyone has surrendered to me."

"The Resistance was based on Ajan Kloss..." Oberon pondered.

"The Resistance is dead," Kylo hissed.

"Are they?" Oberon questioned, lifting his brows, face somehow _smug,_ as if he'd caught the Emperor in a lie. Kylo clenched his fists, fingers curling, nails digging into his palms.

"What are you insinuating, Grand Moff?"

"I just can't help but wonder. Weeks ago, a citizen from Bothawui came to see you, claiming to have information. What did he say?"

Resisting the urge to reach forward and throttle the Grand Moff until he was dead was surprisingly difficult. He had no right— _no right_ to question Kylo's leadership.

"Forgive me if the word of an old drunkard isn't enough to spur an investigation. The man claimed to see a ship that _may have_ had Resistance passengers. That isn't enough to go on. If the Spynet did not find any evidence of Resistance activity, then the word of one witness isn't sufficient."

"That's for the council to decide."

Something black flickered behind Kylo's eyes. And it felt like someone had kicked an ember underneath his skin. His eyes widened, going wild for a moment. For a split-second, even Oberon seemed to cower.

"Forgive me," he said quickly. "I only meant that someone on the council may be able to launch a proper investigation."

"I've voiced my concern about the Resistance for over a year, and the council has never heeded me. Do what you will with the word of an old man, Oberon," Kylo snapped. 

Oberon was silent only for a moment. "Regardless, the destruction of the old Resistance base may...send a message. Especially given the recent attacks..."

"You've been Grand Moff for a week," Kylo sneered. "And you already want me to _blow up_ Ajan Kloss?"

"Think of the power of the Empire. A power the First Order was unable to match. Only when we wielded Starkiller did we even hold a _flame_ to-"

"Enough," Kylo growled. Only then did the Moff go silent. "You may be second in command, Grand Moff Oberon, but you'll do well do remember that's all you are. Your authority will never surpass mine."

"I would never suggest it would, Your Imperial Majesty. Let me assure you that I only meant to offer my council."

"And let me assure _you_ that your council is wholly unnecessary," Kylo seethed, brushing past the Grand Moff and heading towards the exit. "Now if you're done wasting my time, I'm going to go see my wife."

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

The Knights had already been by to see you, but because you'd been sleeping, they didn't stay long. They did, however, bring you a bouquet of flowers that they'd picked themselves. They'd gone to the courtyard to do it, and mostly, it was made of weeds, but you were touched that they'd at least tried.

Plus, they brightened up your room. You'd been in the hospital for almost a week, mostly sleeping off the pain. Plus, you were so drugged up on medication that it was hard to stay awake for more than a couple hours at a time.

As far as your broken bones and life-threatening concussion, everything was mended. The Order had the best doctors and surgeons the galaxies had to offer, and while it was a wonder you were alive, you had also improved vastly in the week that followed the attack. Broken bones could be mended and split skin could be stitched. However, the sheer pain you felt at being dropped so many feet in a TIE fighter—there wasn't much else they could do about that. You were still sore, and likely would be in the thick of it for another several days at the very least.

And you were lonely. You couldn't move easily by yourself, so you'd spent the last couple of hours since moving to your room in silence. Gil wasn't even guarding your door; he was off with the Knights working a job for Kylo. Something about Mustafar. Night had fallen, and it was cold.

But just when you were feeling like you couldn't stand the isolation for another minute, the door to your room opened.

And Kylo was practically sprinting to your bedside.

He had something in his hand—a small box. But the second he was next to you, you forgot all about it. He placed it on your bedside table. Then, he swiftly took off his helmet, practically ripping it off his hand, and placed that down, too.

"Kylo," you breathed, sitting up in bed, trying to ignore the splinter of pain that shot up through your back. You winced in discomfort as he pulled you into his arms, but despite how much it hurt, all you wanted to do was hold him. Let him hold _you._

Kylo pulled away, sitting gently on the side of your bed, fingers stroking your hair. You'd all but been in a medically induced coma for the better part of a week. You had vague memories of him visiting you in the infirmary, but you'd been so tired or so foggy, it really didn't feel like you'd seen him since the attack.

"Sorry," he murmured, noticing your pain. "Still hurts?"

You nodded. "I can't move my back at all or it just..." You chewed the inside of your cheek. Every time you even tried to move your head to the side, you were seized in sharp pain. It was exhausting. "I never thought I would miss meditating with Kuna and Maxir." You forced a laugh, trying to add some levity to the situation, but it only made more sadness hang in the air between you. Nibbling on your lower lip, you looked away. You were just so desperate to get out of bed. To be able to walk by yourself. _Anything_ if it meant things were back to normal. Even if that meant boring, mindless meditation for hours on end.

"How's your back?" he asked, nodding vaguely in your direction. "The bruises."

"It's really gross," you told him.

"Let me see," he murmured. His hands moved in your direction, finding the hem of your sleeping shirt; your nurses had dressed you in something loose and comfortable. It was the first item of clothing you'd worn besides your hospital gown in days.

"No," you said quickly, wincing away from him. "It's...it's bad."

He gave you a look that you couldn't quite read. "You don't think you're going to scare me away, do you?"

Your eyes twitched as stared at him. But after a few heavy moments, you bent forward a little, hinging at the hips, allowing him to scoot closer to your pillow and raise the back of your shirt, lifting it from the hem to expose the skin.

You'd caught sight of it in the mirror when your handmaidens had dressed you earlier that afternoon. And it made you feel sick. You were purpled and blackened with bruises. Some of them had turned a sickly green; at least that meant that they were healing.

You weren't sure why you were holding your breath and nibbling so violently on your lower lip as he silently examined your injuries. It was difficult to allow even your nurses to see you look so weak and battered. Kylo was probably the _last_ person you wanted to see you in this state.

His fingertips glazed the skin of your lower back. You hissed—more in surprise than pain.

"Sorry," he murmured. You couldn't move your neck to watch where he was looking, but you could practically _feel_ his gaze taking in your injuries. Your breath was heavy.

After a few moments, he lowered your shirt and sat up straight, eyes landing on yours once again. He took your chin in his forefinger and thumb, tenderly grazing your skin, as if to soften your nerves.

"They'll heal," he told you. "You're strong."

You nodded, dropping your gaze, filled with an overwhelming emotion you couldn't place. "Can you send my nurses back in?" you murmured. "I want to take a bath."

Your eyes flickered up back towards his to see his reaction. But when you looked at him, you saw that his brow was knit; he looked confused.

"You don't need your nurses for that. I'll help you."

Before you could even react, he was standing.

"No, Kylo-no. That's okay. Just...you can send in my nurses; you don't have to do that."

"I know I don't," he answered, pinching his brow, as if to ask why you would rather have someone else's help. The truth was, you were shocked that Kylo was being so helpful. He was the Emperor, and surely he had more urgent things to attend to. You felt guilty; why on earth would he want to help you take a bath?

"No, I mean...I _need_ them. I need help. I can't lift my arms," you explained, then you blushed. "I can't do it myself," you admitted in a small voice.

"I understand," he murmured, eyes twitching as he stared down at you.

Understanding washed over your features and flooded your insides as you were hit with the understanding: Kylo Ren wanted to give you a _bath._

"Oh," you muttered, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Are you sure?"

Apparently, he was done arguing. "Come on," he told you, voice gentle as he leaned forward to lift the covers and guide you out of bed. One hand was strong and steady against your body and the other was guiding, barely brushing you as you took slow steps towards the refresher. Your whole body was sore, but your legs were more functional than the other half. As long as you went slow, it was bearable. It was your shoulders, back, and neck that you had to be careful with. Your fracture was still healing. You felt stiff and immovable, constantly dreading the moments where you moved in the wrong way, causing a sharp pain to seize and shatter your muscles, temporarily blinding you with pain.

Shuffling into the refresher, you leaned into Kylo's hand, allowing him to guide and support you. You weren't used to relying on people in that way. And you sure he wasn't used to offering a helping hand the way he was for you. While you felt particularly vulnerable, something told you that Kylo did, too.

He reached down to start the water before he turned back to you.

"Can you lift your arms?" he asked.

You took a deep breath; you _could,_ but it wasn't pleasant. You nodded, slowly raising your arms towards the ceiling, wincing as your injured shoulder screamed in pain. Kylo's eyes locked with yours as he carefully raised the fabric, the backs of his fingers brushing your skin. He pulled your shirt over your head, and you felt the ends of your hair brush your back as they flopped back in place.

"Hold onto my shoulders," he told you, eyes flashing up to meet yours as he lowered himself to a knee. His eyes were locked with yours as he hooked his fingers into the hem of your pants, slowly pulling them down your hips. You gripped his shoulders, breath stalling as you stared at him: gently working the loose fabric down your legs.

Bruises littered your thighs. His eyes glazed over each one as your legs became free.

"Step out," he told you, gently patting your calf. His voice was almost unrecognizably soft—slightly gravelly but strangely tender nonetheless.

You did as he said, raising one foot and stepping away from garment before following suit on the other side. Kylo shoved your pajama pants towards the wall and stood up. Your hands never left his shoulders.

Kylo's hand was gentle as it rested on the bare skin of your lower back, guiding you gently towards the tub. You'd been injured for a week, and this was the most movement you'd done in that time.

You felt frail and weak, crossing your arms over your chest to warm yourself, shivering as Kylo knelt by the tub, testing the temperature.

"Let's get you inside," he murmured, standing up and turning to face you. Trembling, you stepped one foot into the tub. Kylo held you tightly by the arm with one hand and guided your back with the other. As you lowered into the water, groaning in pain, he slowly knelt at your side, ensuring you didn't slip.

You winced as your muscles flexed and tensed, but once you were settled, you finally began to relax. Once you were seated, you looked up at him.

"Kylo," you whispered, not bothering to try and stop the tears pooling in your eyes. You didn't know why you were so emotional. Perhaps it was because you felt feeble and weak for the first time in your life. Or perhaps it was because Kylo was being so unimaginably kind that it was piercing your heart. And it was overwhelming.

He softened at the sight of your pained expression, watching your face strain as you began to cry. He sighed, shrugging off his clothes, removing everything from his gloves to his boots until he was fully naked. Then, he stepped into the water, exhaling as he settled behind you, leaning against the back of the tub and pulling you against him.

Your back pressed against his chest as he stretched his legs, knees slightly raised on either side of your body. Your eyes fluttered shut and you settled in between his thighs, relaxing against his body.

He snaked his arms to wrap gently around your waist, nose pressing into your hair. He kissed the side of your head, and let you cry silently.

"Fuck," you wheezed, letting the tears fall gently down your cheeks. "My ribs are broken, it fucking hurts to cry."

You were being slightly dramatic—your ribs weren't still broken, but they still ached like they were. Kylo held you tighter, careful to make sure he wasn't clenching you.

"I know," he murmured, kissing your shoulder lightly.

"I just want to feel normal. I hate feeling... _weak,"_ you admitted through clenched teeth.

"You're not weak. And you'll get stronger every day," he murmured into the curve of your neck, pressing his chin to your shoulder. "I promise. You just have to have patience."

A breath of laughter kicked from your chest. And then you yelped in pain, muscles clenching in your body. You felt Kylo sit up straight and let you go, hands raising to your sides, as if he had the impulse to help you, only to realize there was nothing he could do. The pain passed, and you lied back against him.

"You know I'm not built for patience."

"I'm aware," he muttered, rubbing your arm softly.

You let your eyes flutter shut. The water was warm, gently lapping your skin, and Kylo's arms were encircling your body. You could have drifted back to sleep if you weren't careful, but you hadn't really seen Kylo in days. You wanted to stay awake and enjoy his company. Even if his kindness was causing a war in your mind.

"Kylo," you breathed.

He inhaled suddenly, as if he'd been drifting off too. He hummed lowly, a wordless instruction for you to continue.

"When you were told you had to get married..." you began. "Did you think that it would be...like this?"

You held your breath, suddenly feeling nervous, aware that you were teetering on a line you didn't want to cross. Waiting anxiously, you focused on Kylo's breath against your neck, chest rising and falling evenly beneath your back. You wondered if he needed context, needed to know what you meant. But apparently, he knew _exactly_ what you were asking him. He didn't elaborate, but gave you his answer, one that was small but told you everything you needed to know: "No."

The air wavered slightly as you exhaled, a small amount of relief filling your body. Kylo didn't like to elaborate on his feelings. He didn't like to open up _at all._ But there was something between the two of you, something that exceeded your wildest expectations. You knew it wasn't likely that he wanted to address it. But you knew for a fact that whatever it was, he felt it too.

"And are you...are you okay with it?

He inhaled sharply, saying nothing, but nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, nose pressing against your skin.

And then, softly: "I don't know."

You exhaled shakily, feeling slightly dejected but mostly confused, unable to fault him for his answer. He couldn't help how he felt. He certainly couldn't help want he wanted. And if what he wanted and what he was feeling were at odds, you couldn't imagine the war of hearts raging inside of him. It probably wasn't all that unlike yours.

Because you figured that when Kylo was told he was going to be married against his will, he would have expected that the relationship would grow to be nothing more than a political arrangement. That's what _you'd_ expected.

And yet that wasn't what the two of you had become--whether Kylo liked it or not.

Realization was washing over you, a truth you weren't ready to face, a word you weren't ready to name. You swallowed thickly, closing your eyes and squeezing them, trying hard not to think about the possibility of being parted from him. About how it felt to be on opposite sides of a war—without him even knowing. Without even being able to open up to him about your fears and everything you were coming to regret.

You were terrified to lose him, you realized. It was sobering—understanding that in the end, you were either supposed to kill him or make him change sides. And that no matter what you'd choose, you were betraying him.

The Resistance was supposed to be a light. A symbol of hope. But now, both the Resistance and the Final Order felt like dark, looming shadows closing in on you.

And now, all you wanted was Kylo Ren.

You sat up, groaning as you tried to turn around without moving your neck or your shoulders. Kylo's hands were at your waist the second he realized you were trying to turn around enough to face him. He maneuvered your bodies so that the two of you were looking at each other, holding your arms to keep you still and steady.

"Can I just ask you one more thing?"

"Anything, Princess," Kylo murmured.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, letting your mouth open and close and then open again as you searched for the right words. "We've come a long way. When I came here, I never thought I would trust you the way I do now. But...sometimes, I still think about that day in the interrogation room. When you...looked into my mind. I know you had to look. I know you had to see for yourself that I'm not a traitor but Kylo, sometimes I still think about the pain." Your voice dropped to a whisper and you felt him tense against you, and suddenly, he was averting your gaze. It probably wasn't a pretty memory for him either—he couldn't enjoy knowing that he'd hurt you.

"I've proven I'm on your side. I've proven I want you safe. I want you here with me. That's why I went after you. That's why I saved you." you told him, seizing his hand in yours. Your lip was trembling. "So please...please. Never do that to me again. Anything but that."

Kylo's expression was unreadable; your eyes scanned his face, his knit brows, his slightly narrowed, dark eyes. A small spark of panic flickered in your chest, breath hitching. You placed your hand on his cheek, desperate to make him understand.

"I just...I hate the way it feels. Kylo, you know you can trust me. There's no need for it anymore."

If you'd been asking for this a month ago, your intentions would have been dishonest. But with every day that passed, you longed less and less for there to be a barrier between you and Kylo. You didn't want to look into your mind because you had secrets—that much was true. But all the secrets you had left were all the ways you were going to save him from the Order. The plain truth was that you wanted to know that you could trust _him._ Because if he could agree to lay down the one weapon he could use to hurt you, then you would know that he _could_ be turned to the light. And that the two of you could escape, could live freely, could be together.

Finally, Kylo exhaled steadily. He didn't say anything, but squeezed your hands, giving you a small, curt nod.

You exhaled in relief, breath shuddering. Waves of warm, comforting relief surged in your body as you realized what that meant. He wouldn't raise a hand to you again. Wouldn't look into your mind against your will. That meant that he _trusted_ you. And that meant that you could trust _him._

You'd been lying to him for so long. You'd been lying to everyone around you for so long. Yet the following words that came out of your mouth were maybe the most truthful ones you'd spoken since coming to the Order:

"I would die for you," you breathed. "I would do anything for you, Kylo."

His eyes softened, and he reached up, touching the side of your face with one hand. The other was wrapped around your middle, his wide palm supporting the back of your head. And as you stared into his eyes, you realized that you didn't recognize the person you were looking at. The stoniness was suddenly nowhere to be found. Before, when you looked at him, you saw a beautiful but rigid man, walls upon walls, a thick, impenetrable veneer of self-preservation. A set of armor made of invulnerability.

Now, you saw a man stripped bare. As if the words he'd just come out of your mouth were words that had never touched his ears before.

The backs of his fingers stroked your cheek, thumb brushing tenderly against your lower lip.

"And I'd kill for you," he breathed.

And just then, it hit you like a ton of bricks: not only would you die for him.

But you couldn't live without him.

You loved him.

You loved Kylo Ren.

You swallowed back every impulse to say it aloud, clenching your teeth, trembling against the weight of the truth. You didn't know what you do; you couldn't _tell_ him _._ He wouldn't be ready. And the Resistance wouldn't be ready to help you escape yet. It wasn't the right time. But you could no longer hide the truth from yourself. And you couldn't even think about what that meant—because if you loved him, you shouldn't want to bring him back to the Resistance. Shouldn't want to make decisions on his behalf about where he belonged in the world.

All you knew was that you needed him to survive. That life without him was something you didn't want anymore. That you could be together—someday, somewhere, where the Resistance and the Order couldn't touch you.

Because the only alternative was staying in the Order. Staying with him. Choosing to be his Empress. Choosing the Order. For him. You couldn't do that...could you?

It wasn't something you could even wrap your mind around. You released a shuddering breath, and suddenly, his arms were encircling you tighter, pressing himself against you. You were overcome with emotion, with conflict, but all of it drifted away as Kylo pressed his lips against yours, firm but tender. You sank into him, feeling his fingers curl into your hair as he shuddered against you, as if his feelings were raging inside his body and mind the same as yours. You were tired and still felt weak, but found your lips parting, kissing him deeper, more urgently.

You couldn't help it. You couldn't hold back.

Because you loved him.

Even though you'd tried so hard not to.

You whimpered against his lips, holding him tight and kissing him fiercely, wanting so much to have the strength to straddle his hips and let him take you.

But you had too much healing to do. Though that was all made easier by the fact that you had Kylo. That he was there by your side. That he believed in your strength, and even if you didn't believe in it yourself, he'd help you find it.

You stayed like that for some time, kissing passionately until the water had gone cool. Then, Kylo realized he was supposed to be helping you, and if he held off any longer, you'd both end up freezing.

He took his time spreading the soapy loofa across your body, maneuvering your arms so he could be as thorough as he wanted—which was surprisingly fucking thorough. And when he helped guide you to your legs, you averted your eyes as he washed your legs and feet. He was so beautiful, concentrating intensely as he made sure he was cleaning you properly, and yet you could barely meet his eyes. Not only did you feel like you were being crushed by the weight of figuring out you loved him, but the guilt was crushing you, too. Kylo Ren didn't care for people. He was the Emperor. He had a thousand people at his beck and call to care for _him._ And because you were married to him, you had people of your own—nurses, handmaids, and guards—to make sure that you were fully provided for. This wasn't his _job._ It wasn't what he was supposed to do. And you couldn't figure out for the life of you why he wanted to do this himself.

Unless there was a chance that he loved you, too.

The thought crossed your mind, though it felt more like you were hit with a ton of bricks. You inhaled shakily, eyes flickering down towards him. At the sound of your soft gasp, his gaze locked with yours. His brow was gently knit, lips barely pursed. The loofa was still in his hand, hovering at your side, inches away from your left thigh.

He looked perfect. Gentle. The look on his face was one that you never would have believed he had the ability to wear. Everyone had told you he was a hardened war-criminal. A child who had grown up too fast, who had bloomed and spindled into an unhinged monster.

How could someone like that look so gentle?

How could someone like that lose the ability to love?

"What?" he murmured gently, lifting his brows. Your heart clenched. The care and concern in his eyes were unmistakable.

Suddenly, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

Was it really possible? Did Kylo Ren love you?

You shook your head quickly, tears springing to your eyes all over again, your body flooding with emotions. Even if it was true, even if it was possible, you couldn't ask him. Not until you were _sure._ Not until he was ready to admit it. Ready to run away with you.

"I just..." you tried, gasping, blinking furiously in an attempt to whisp away the tears. "I'm sorry. I just feel so weak." And that statement was true in more ways than he could even imagine.

His brow narrowed, and he gently rubbed the back of your calf, setting down the loofa and gingerly splashing you with water to rinse you.

"I think I know how I can help with that," he said.

You knit your brow. He held your gaze only for a few seconds longer before he was standing, gently placing a hand on your hip—a silent instruction to stay put. Then, he climbed out of the tub, grabbing a towel from the wall and wrapping it below his hips. You felt yourself blushing as you stared at him; you'd yet to get used to the way he looked. Water dripped from the ends of his hair to patter onto the floor by his feet, droplets rolling down his chest to soak gingerly into the plush fibers of the towel.

He caught you staring as he picked up a second towel and started back in your direction. He stopped in his tracks, brows twitching.

"What?" he breathed again, cautiously.

You had to stop yourself from saying it. Had to swallow back the words. Instead, you didn't say anything. Maybe that was enough. Kylo's expression softened and he settled back on his heels, staring deeply into your eyes, lowering his arm a little. You stayed like that for a few seconds, until he cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Hop out, Princess," he murmured, guiding one foot out of the tub, fingers gently wrapped around your ankle, before doing the same for the other. When your feet hit the soft bath rug, he wrapped the towel around your shoulders, letting you pull it snug. He leaned down, placing a kiss to your forehead that sent electric prickes through your skin and sparkled trough the rest of your body.

He took a step away, then held out his hand to you. You took it, letting him guide you back into the bedroom, gazing at him all the while. In fact, you were unable to peel your eyes off of him—even if you tried.

You'd forgotten about the box he brought in with him. He walked over to your end table, and your gaze landed on it—moderately sized and black, longer than it was wide. You knit your brow, eyes moving between him and the box a good few times as he picked it up and held it out to you.

You tucked the towel under your arms and above your chest, stuffing one end into the hem so you could reach out and take the box.

Knitting your brow, you opened the lid.

And all of the air in your lungs was suddenly gone.

It was a thin, sleek silver handle with ridges and buttons. For a moment, you couldn't even wrap your mind around what you were looking at. And then it hit you.

It was a lightsaber.

Your gaze lifted to meet Kylo's. One corner of his mouth was just barely lifted into half a smile. His eyes were gentle as he stared back at you, but his voice was as low and as strong as ever.

"You will only use it when you're training with me. You won't light that blade unless I explicitly tell you that you can. You will train harder and practice more self-discipline. And you'll stop complaining during your meditation sessions," he instructed, cocking a brow.

"Yes," you breathed, releasing a shaky laugh in the midst of your disbelief. "Yes, of course. Whatever you want. Anything." Your brows rose again, as if asking for permission.

He sighed, looking at you with an expression that said nothing but somehow screamed, " _of fucking course she wants to light the damned thing."_

"Go ahead," he muttered with a small smile, nodding towards the box.

You squealed in delight, picking up the saber, ignoring the pain that shot up your back as you lifted your arm. Suddenly, you hardly noticed it. Your hand was slightly shaky as you rolled the hilt over in your hand, admiring the artistry with which it was built.

"Go ahead," he repeated, voice slightly higher this time, giving you some space so you could ignite the blade.

You'd been expecting purple.

But what shot out of the blade instead was a blinding white light.

You gasped softly, admiring its beauty, trying to keep your eyes open against the staggeringly blazing plasma.

"Do you remember what I told you of the Sith and the Jedi?" Kylo's voice came from just behind your ear. Then, you felt his chest brush lightly against your back, nose brushing your neck.

Breathless, you nodded, feeling the light's reflection flashing across your eyes.

"Tell me," he breathed.

"The Sith and the Jedi are no more. The Sith and users of the Dark Side are not synonymous, nor are the Jedi and users of the light side. While the Sith and the Jedi cease to exist, users of the Force do not. Knowledge of the Force has moved past the need for failed, closed-minded civilizations," you recited. Just as he taught you.

"Why?"

"Because both were responsible for their own downfalls. There must be power drawn from both sides, light and dark, or both will collapse."

He hummed in approval against your skin, gazing at the way you held the weapon, admiring it alongside you—admiring your newfound power. "Good girl," he murmured into your neck, before drawing himself away from you, pacing in front of your body. Only then did your eyes leave the saber to look at him instead.

"This blade represents your non-affiliation with the Jedi or the Sith. Right now, you're still learning the basics. When you're ready, we will begin to explore the Dark Side."

Your breath stalled in your throat. You had the instinct to look away from him, but your gaze was immovably locked with his. Training in the Dark Side was something you'd been trying to stall. But if you stayed with the Order, it wasn't something you could put off forever.

"Once you master this weapon, when you're well again, you'll build your own," he continued. I'll help you. If it's constructed by your hands, it will respond to your power as if it's an extension of _you._ "

The light of the saber was dazzling. Beautiful. And yet slowly, dread was overcoming you. You weren't ready for the Dark Side. And yet this was what you'd wanted.

The only thing was—you weren't sure if you truly didn't want to try it, or if you were afraid of what would happen to you if you did.

"True power," he continued, "comes in mastering both sides in the Force. You wield the Dark Side. Use it to your advantage. Control it. You don't let it control _you._ "

You clicked the button, and the blade shot back into the hilt. You were breathing heavily, staring at the place the plasma had disappeared. Then, your eyes were on Kylo again.

"I know I said I wanted this," you breathed. "And I do. But...I'm afraid."

He took a step forward, placing himself in front of your body. "You've saved my life. Twice now. The bravery you've shown me, your _instincts_ , your strength—of body and mind...you're ready, Princess," he told you. "I've never been so sure of anyone."

Your eyes were wide and swimming with nervousness and apprehension as you stared back at him. But finally, you nodded.

Kylo seemed pleased. He exhaled, gently drawing you to his body, holding you in his strong arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" you whispered, cheek smooshed against his chest.

"Mm," he murmured. "I don't know how long I can stay. I don't know how long the Grand Moff can go without dragging me away to deal with something stupid."

You nodded, letting him turn away from you to pull down the covers. 

You set your lightsaber on your bedside table.

Kylo guided you into bed and climbed in after you. If the warm bathwater had been heaven against your skin, then trying to get comfortable in the sheets was hell. Your shoulder screamed in pain each time to tried to adjust. Frustrated, you felt tears pricking your eyes all over again.

But Kylo was right there next to you—brushing your cheek when you groaned in anger or pain, calming you to sleep. After a while, with him by your side, you were finally able to relax, soothed by the steady sound of his breathing.

And suddenly, you didn't feel afraid that Kylo Ren was your new Force teacher. Suddenly, you weren't dreading the thought of learning the Dark Side.

Because you were in bed and he was lying next to you, drifting off to sleep as he stroked the side of your face.

You'd come to the Order to find answers.

Instead, you'd found something else entirely.


	21. The Emperor Awakens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salvatore Ferragamo at Milan Fashion Week Spring 2011, look 59
> 
> TW: brief discussions of food, eating
> 
> TW: Death/violence.
> 
> Please remember that I love you guys.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

“Funny thing about the Order is that despite how much wealth you have, all of you eat like people who aren’t allowed to enjoy anything,” you lilted, dipping your strip of crab into the bowl of butter set off to the side. You were grinning; it was the night before your coronation, and things were going well—shockingly well. While you weren’t strong enough to start training again (according to Kylo, at least,) your injuries had healed well.

You were starting to feel like yourself again. You were starting to feel like an Empress.

Kylo stared at you with a cocked brow as you slipped the piece of crab into your mouth, chewing gratefully. He was staring at his own plate and the special utensils that had to be ordered for your coronation feast like he was staring at a disassembled droid—unsure of what to do with all the pieces.

Steamed lizard crab was a delicacy from back home. It was decadent and expensive and fun to eat, which made it the perfect meal for the occasion. And it had become increasingly clear to you that Kylo’s diet was unadventurous, strict, and included only the basics and essentials. You were going to show him that he was allowed to _enjoy_ things even if it killed you to do so.

Which was why you’d taken the liberty to set up a little taste-testing event in the throne room, where the gala was to be held. You and Kylo sat at opposite sides of a long dining table, and various samples of food for the feast lied in between you.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” he snapped, holding up seashell crackers.

“You crack the legs open with that,” you said, ripping a limb off the knuckle of the crab, snapping it in half and sliding out a piece of meat.

“And how am I supposed to eat this without looking like a complete fool?”

Chewing, you grinned. It was fun to see him get so worked up over something so innocent. Sometimes, Kylo reminded you of the formidable Emperor that he was. Sometimes, he reminded you of a ten-year-old, and it was endearing to watch him get so flustered over something simple.

“The point isn’t to _not_ look like an idiot. It’s messy. But it’s an _experience,_ Kylo, that’s why I had it ordered,” you explained, unpeeling the other half of the limb.

“No. You just wanted to spend all of my money,” he clipped, eyeing you from across the table and folding his hands under his chin.

You smirked at him, eyes boring mischievously into his—though you were a long distance away.

“You bad girl,” he breathed.

And suddenly, you were blushing forcefully. It would have been a fun exchange—if you weren’t surrounded by Imperial Guardsmen.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, throwing down his utensils, letting them clatter onto the table. He leaned back in his chair and turned to address a guard. “Have her placemat and food moved over next to me,” he clipped.

At once, the Guardsman nodded, and three of them moved to pull out your chair and guide you towards Kylo’s side.

You settled in your seat, grinning up at him.

“That’s much better,” you agreed.

Kylo was still eyeing his food. Gods above—the man could wipe out an entire village singlehandedly, and he couldn’t figure out how to unshell a lizard crab.

“Here,” you told him, tossing down your utensils so you could help him with his.

He grumbled in protest yet again, but begrudgingly let you help him. You snapped the shells, one after the other, laying out several tiny strips of meat onto his plate. "It's time you learned how to do this. It's no wonder you're so clueless, given the way you usually eat."

“Self-discipline. Modesty. I can’t expect someone like _you_ to understand.”

You turned to him, and saw that he was eyeing you in your gown, the eye-catching blue-green shade, and perhaps most notably, the cutout in the abdominal area and the lack of fabric on the shoulders. Thin cords tied the dress around your neck, and more or less, everything but your tits and your legs were exposed. 

No, it was _anything_ but modest.

Though his face was set like stone, Kylo’s eyes were dancing. They were swimming with that familiar, devilish glimmer, that darkness that seemed to shine.

A surge of excitement erupted in your stomach. You looked away from him, eyeing your plate so you wouldn’t have to see the clear arousal in his eyes and lose control, because you’d definitely launch yourself onto the table and start kissing him in front of all those Imperial Guardsmen. 

“Yeah, I know you’re used to rations, Kylo, but it’s not a crime to enjoy your life now and again. I think that was the biggest surprise coming here, actually. Learning that you don’t eat like an Emperor. You eat like a Stormtrooper. Or a sad, stuffy old general with a blaster rifle up his ass.”

Kylo choked on his crab; it wasn’t hard to gather that you were talking about General Pryde, who, thankfully, was still aboard the Steadfast, gods only knew where.

“Are you ready?” he asked you suddenly, bringing his glass of alcohol to his lips—you weren’t sure what it was, but it looked like water, which told you it was probably unbearably strong.

“I’ve told you a hundred times. _No,”_ you reminded him with a laugh, as if to tell him you were only teasing. But you _were_ nervous—there was no denying it. You glanced towards the throne, wiping your fingers on your napkin. “I just don’t know what to expect.”

“You know exactly what to expect,” he told you flatly. “You’ve been preparing for this since you were born. The only difference is you’re not going to be a Queen over one system. You’re going to be an Empress of an entire galaxy.”

You inhaled shakily. “No, I know I can handle the politics. My duties. But…walking into a room in front of all those people, staring all of them in the eye while I become their leader…sitting down in that chair that I’ve never sat in before.” You shook your head, feeling your anxiety begin to roil inside of you. You knew you could handle being an Empress. You’d been in training your whole life to be a Queen. It was more about what it all _meant._ The symbolism that it held. The throne was almost becoming an _entity_ in your mind. Something to fear. Almost if it represented another side of yourself, and you didn’t know if you were supposed to be at war with it or not.

Suddenly, Kylo was standing, tossing his napkin onto the table before reaching for his glass, emptying the contents into the back of his throat before turning to you. “You feel unprepared,” he said simply. “Let’s walk you through it.”

Eyeing him, you stood, following at your husband’s side as he began to walk towards the thrones.

“You’ll enter up the steps,” he said, tilting his head behind him, “and you’ll walk up here, liek this.” Kylo started up the platform, taking two steps at a time, landing in front of the two enormous thrones. You stood at his side, shuddering as you sensed him look down towards you. “Then you’ll kneel." You stopped breathing. "After that, I’ll name you as my Empress in front of the entire Order. And then you’ll take your rightful seat at my side.”

At that, you turned to look at him. You could feel your blood thumping in your body. But it wasn’t just nervousness and anxiety that was mounting inside of you as Kylo drank in your eyes, stared into your soul.

It was _excitement._

“Would you like that?” he asked lowly.

Slowly, you nodded, not daring to admit to yourself that it was the truth.

“You know what this means, then. The power you’ll hold.”

You stared at the throne, breathing stalling in your lungs. You knew you wouldn’t have that power forever. You were only becoming the Empress because your mission required it. That power wouldn’t actually be _yours—_ unless you decided you wanted it.

“Got ahead, then,” he urged, giving you a gentle nudge towards the smaller of the two thrones. “You should sit in it before you’re coronated. That way you’re already used to it.”

You took a stumbling step forward but as you approached the throne, you found yourself turning back to him, and something in your face faltered.

“It’s alright,” he assured you gently, giving you a curt nod. “Sit.”

You turned back to the throne.

Your eyes glazed over the smooth stone, the ridgeless armrests. Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that this wasn’t something to be nervous about. Sure, you’d never expected to be Empress. Bu you sure as hell weren’t going to allow a _chair_ to hold any power over you. Turning around slowly, you lowered yourself, body coming into contact with your throne at last.

You let your hands slide over the armrests, getting used to the coolness under your fingertips. You relaxed, sinking against it.

Kylo crossed his arms, staring down at you. “Do you feel like an Empress?”

You eyed him. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Sitting up here next to you is going to be a tough act to follow.”

Kylo’s eyes were cautious but otherwise unreadable as they glazed over you. You weren’t sure if he was disappointed in your answer or not—until he spoke again.

“My little Princess is still feeling timid,” he hummed. “Afraid of her own power.”

He was gazing at you like you were his pet—cute and innocent but scared of your own shadow. And that’s not how you felt—not truly. Not usually, at least. But knowing that now, you had to exist in his shadow and simultaneously uphold his legacy, you _did_ feel unsure of yourself.

“I know I said we’d wait to resume your training, but I can teach you how to draw strength from the Dark Side.”

Your eyes went wide, and cautiously, you looked towards the guards, as if they would judge you. They stood as motionless and militaristically as ever, gripping their weapons and staring dead ahead.

“Now?” you whispered. “I’m-I’m not ready for that.

“Don’t worry,” he hummed, brows knitting. “I won’t let you lose control.”

Your eyes were locked onto his. A part of you wanted to say something, but you couldn’t even think. You couldn’t breathe, either.

Luckily, Kylo was the one to speak.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

Without hesitation, you nodded. He hummed in approval, walking to the side of your throne, staring down at you with dark eyes. “That’s my good girl.”

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping the armests.

“Channel your anger,” he told you, breath hitting the side of your neck as he leaned over to brush his lips against your ear, gripping the opposite armrest. “Think about those men who came to take me away from you.”

The thought alone mounted your emotions. Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you did your best to clear your mind. Your stomach flipped as the cultists in the small fighter ships who came to Naboo to kill Kylo filled your mind. You tried not to _think,_ only to feel. But as the memory of the attack flooded your sense, you didn’t feel anger. You just felt _Kylo._ You remembered how it felt to go after him. The urgency of needing to save him.

Your breath hitched again. Soon, any memory of the attackers was gone.

Soon, it was just Kylo.

He hummed, voice hitting from mere inches away from your ear. You would have been startled, but you felt suspiciously calm. Kylo’s fingers trailed the stones that lined your choker. Something seemed to spark beneath the diamonds and glistening red iron, surging across your skin, like tiny, electric kisses. “That’s not anger. That’s lust, Princess.”

“But you-”

“I’m not looking into your mind,” he corrected swiftly. “I don’t need to. It’s rolling off of you so strongly I can almost taste it.”

You exhaled on a moan. In any other setting, you would have felt embarrassed; there were Guardsmen in the room, after all. But you still sensed that same, foreign peace sheltering you from any and all shame you could have overtaken you.

Confidence.

Strength.

“Do you feel better, Princess?” Kylo’s voice was from a few feet away now. Your eyes were closed, but you heard him settle down into his own throne, the fabric of his armor brushing the stone. You could sense the rhythm of his breathing as if it was an extension of your own.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Tell me.”

“I feel strong,” you said. “I feel unafraid.” Your eyes fluttered open. When you turned to look at Kylo, he was sitting on his throne, chin tilted in your direction, absolutely drinking you with his eyes. For the first time in weeks, your anxiety wasn’t hammering in your chest. The world felt full of possibilities.

“Does your shoulder still hurt?” he asked curtly, chin twitching upwards. There was something dark and fiery dancing in his eyes.

You shook your head.

“Then come here,” he told you.

When you stood, there was no hesitation left in your body. Your eyes locked onto his, the tiniest of smirks playing on your lips as you slowly crossed over to Kylo’s throne. He stared up at you as you stood over him, and you could tell that he was satisfied. Because you were the picture of strength. 

And all it took was a few seconds of meditation. Even if that meditation was based in the Dark Side, it wasn’t as if you’d done anything evil. And that realization only made you feel lighter. You hadn’t hurt anyone. Hadn’t done anything wrong. The power had been inside you all along; all you’d done was channel your emotions. _That_ was what the Jedi were so afraid of?

“Sit,” he told you.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards. On any other day, you would have refused, or at least hesitated, because there were at least a dozen guards standing in the throne room. But none of them mattered. Kylo was their Emperor. This time tomorrow, you were going to be their Empress. The two of you could do anything you wanted.

You spun around, slowly sinking down onto his lap, letting Kylo enjoy the show as you stuck out your ass. You came in contact with his thighs and sighed blissfully as his hands began to trail up your ribcage.

All of your senses felt heightened. Your head was dizzy but every brush of his gloved fingers against your skin was even more blissful than ever. Every sensation was elevated. You felt the world around you more intensely than you had before. Your choker seemed to burn around your neck, but in the most delectable way possible.

Seduction.

It felt like utter, physical, otherworldly seduction.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve fucked you, Princess?” he growled against your ear.

Two weeks. Two agonizingly long, painful weeks.

You moaned, letting your head roll back to lean on his shoulder. Finally, you could move without pain. It was such a release. It was satisfying, and it made you feel _powerful._ “How could I forget? I’ve been counting the days, daddy” you breathed wistfully.

You felt him inhale beneath you. Then, Kylo tilted his chin towards the guards, but his eyes were still glued on you. “Get out,” he ordered. You listed as two dozen boots marched across the floor, watching with excitement as they filed out of the room.

As soon as they were gone, Kylo wrapped his hand tightly around your throat. “You _are_ a bad girl, aren’t you?”

You squirmed on top of him, letting your eyes flutter shut as you writhed on his lap. It was always difficult to resist him, and you’d been fighting your attraction for Kylo for as long as you’d known him. But _this…_ this was different. The raw energy flowing through your veins, the Force working through your body in such a way that you could _feel_ it as you could feel your own pulse—it was electrifying. Every sense was heightened. Your pain gone. You’d tapped into your lust and let it burst forth. Now, it was all-consuming.

His hands slid down your chest and stomach until they were on your thighs, slowly lifting the skirt of your dress as his lips brushed the curve of your neck.

“ _My_ bad girl,” he breathed.

Moaning, you rolled your hips, pressing back against him. And you felt his erection pressing into your ass. Your breath stuttered, and you wondered how long he’d been hard—if it had only just happened or if he’d been aching for you all through dinner, as you’d flirted and made light conversation and poked fun at him.

Kylo bunched your skirts at your hips, and one hand slid down to graze over your sex. You inhaled, chest heaving with air as he rolled his hips underneath you.

“Mm. You like this,” he purred into your ear. “The power. The darkness.” His teeth caught your earlobe and he tugged gently, sending your pulse skyrocketing.

Something bloomed in your gut. _Everything._ Desire. Anguish. Pleasure. Fear. Fear, because he was right. You _did_ like it. You _wanted_ it.

“Kylo,” you whimpered.

A gloved hand smacked your cunt. You yelped in pain; your clit stung but it was practically buzzing at the contact, the friction.

“Daddy,” you choked, correcting yourself.

“No,” he murmured, but this time, his fingers were gentle, sliding your panties to the side with the upmost care. You never knew from one moment to the next when he was going to be gentle and when he was going to hurt you. That was probably why sex with him was so good. “Tonight, I’m your Emperor. And you’re my Empress. I think we should practice, don’t you? And besides.” You gasped as he dragged a leather-clad finger up your slit, bringing your own wetness up to your own lips. “I know just how badly you want the Emperor to fuck you on his throne. I can _feel_ it.”

You didn’t hesitate to suck back on his finger, bringing your tightly-wrapped lips down to the knuckle, tasting him greedily. Kylo hissed at the sensation of your tongue flicking over the leather and your lips and cheeks sucking him tight.

“I do,” you breathed when he pulled his fingers free. “I do want you to fuck me on your throne. Please.”

He hummed in approval, and you could feel his cock straining at his pants, twitching eagerly. You pressed your back against his chest, your head rolling against his cheek. You were losing yourself; nothing mattered but you and him.

“Such an eager little slut for her Emperor,” he purred, stroking your hair.

“Yes,” you begged, breathless, hands reaching back to snake into his hair and draw yourself further against him. “I am. Please, please, I need to feel you.”

Suddenly, Kylo was shoving you forward on his lap, rustling with the fastening on his pants. You hitched forward a hairsbreadth, letting him pull himself free. He pulled his cock from his trousers, then lifted you from the hips.

Kylo slid his cock up and down your folds, teasing your dripping entrance. You whimpered, rolling your hips eagerly.

“I'll give my Empress what she wants,” he growled, lining himself up to your pussy. You braced yourself, but it was never enough.

Both of you groaned as he finally slid into you slowly, pressing into your tight, slick walls, cock drenched in your wetness. Your jaw was slack as he pressed his hips upwards so he couldn’t be any deeper. You felt him press against your cervix and groaned; something about the way he hurt you was just irresistible. Not to mention you hadn’t done this in two weeks—that was the longest you’d gone without fucking him since the two of you had started by a landslide.

You groaned, rolling your hips in a circular motion, adjusting to his size. Kylo groaned too, watching you writhe your ass, feeling your tight walls squeeze his cock.

“ _Kylo,”_ you moaned. “Oh, fuck. You feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck yes I do,” he growled, seizing your hips with each hand as you began to ride him gently. You wanted him _desperately_ so a part of you wanted to fuck him into oblivion as quickly as humanly possible. But at the same time, the two of you had all night. No one would enter the throne room without permission. And besides, you had waited for this moment for two painfully long weeks. Now that you finally had him inside you again, you wanted to make it last. To feel every blissful, agonizing inch of him fill you.

“You’ve missed my cock, haven’t you, Princess?” he purred. And it became clear to you in an instant that even when you became Empress, you’d still be his Princess. Always would be. “You’ve been thinking about this for _weeks._ Lying in bed at night, aching for your Emperor. Dreaming about me filling up that tight little pussy of yours. Wanting me so fucking bad. Haven’t you?”

You began to move in earnest, Kylo’s words drawing ounce of desire from your body. Your slow, circular motions became more urgent as you began to ride him in earnest, sliding your slick cunt up and down the length of his shaft. You could feel your cum slipping onto his thighs, and keened the sensation. The two of you were in the middle of the throne room, and you were _drenching_ him. And it didn’t matter. Because he was the Emperor, and you were his Empress.

And the two of you could do whatever the fuck you wanted.

Together, you were unstoppable.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered in response to his filth. “Fuck yes. I’ve wanted this so badly. I’ve been counting down the days until I could have you again. I’ve dreamt about it every night. I can’t live without it, you drive me insane, I need you so fucking bad. I need your fucking cock filling me up.”

“That’s right,” he spat, kissing your neck tenderlessly, jutting his hips upwards.

“ _Fuck,”_ you moaned, jaw clenched before you let it go slack, gasping as you felt yourself fuck him harder, feeling him fill and stretch you to the brim. “Oh my fucking gods, you’re so fucking big. Oh, fuck.”

“You were always your mother’s sweet girl, weren’t you? Her perfect little fucking princess.” he growled, hands guiding you to slam you up and down on his cock. Yours and Kylo’s thighs were smacking together, echoing obscenely throughout the court room. You cried out. “You thought you’d grow up to be the perfect queen. But look at you now. You fucking _love_ being my Empress, don’t you? You love that you get to ride my fucking cock on this throne. And you love the power,” he hissed, gripping your throat with one hand as the other continued to pound you down onto his dick. “You’re the most powerful woman in the galaxy. Because of _me._ And you _love_ it, don’t you, little slut? You love that you’re married to the Emperor, and that he’d do _anything_ for his Empress. You love that I’d burn down villages for you.” he said, his fingers digging painfully into your hipbones, “You love that I’ve killed for you, that I killed those men from Mustafar, that I’d do it again for less. You fucking love it, don’t you, you fucking filthy girl. _Say it._ ”

You roiled, back arching, and tried to swallow down your shame, tried not to sink into the desire and the pleasure. You tried to say no, and more importantly, you tried to mean it.

But you couldn’t. Lying was becoming so exhausting. And now, like _this,_ with darkness and strength plummeting through your veins, the need for lies seemed far behind you when you answered him.

“ _Yes,”_ you breathed, swallowing down the shame until you could barely feel it. “Yes, Kylo, I love it.”

The hand that held your throat squeezed harder, and you choked and sputtered in response.

“ _Emperor Ren,”_ you corrected yourself swiftly, the words practically a scream off of your lips. “ _Yes,_ fuck, I love it, oh my gods.”

“What do you love about it?” he growled in your ear.

“I- I love- _fuck,”_ you breathed, your arms burning as they supported the weight of your motions on the armrests. But with Kylo helping you, the movements were seamless as you forcefully rode his cock, bouncing on top of him. “I love that you’re so powerful. I love that you’ve given me _everything,_ ” you gasped, drawing a low growl from Kylo’s lips, followed by a low string of curse words. “I love how much you fill me up with your cock, how you know just how to fuck me.”

“Touch yourself,” he growled, breath shallow and ragged, ripping from his throat.

You obliged, taking one hand off the armrest to rub rabid, forceful circles against your clit. You were already so close, though, that you knew _this_ was going to make you come undone in a matter of minutes.

“And what else?” he hissed, squeezing your neck tighter. There was a hint of a threat in his voice.

“I love-I…”

“Say it. Tell me,” he said, slamming you harder onto his cock. You yelped in response, your lower belly aching at the pressure.

Your brow was knit. “I love that you’d hurt people for me.” When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Keep going,” he groaned urgently.

You gasped, feeling your sex explode with heat, your thighs beginning to tremble. “I love that you killed for me. I love that you’d do it again,” you blurted, losing yourself. “I love how fucking powerful you are, I love that you can give me whatever I want, I fucking love-I love-” Before you could say anything stupid, you were hit with a staggering wave of pleasure as you felt the waves of your orgasm drawing nearer. Your jaw fell open and you released a loud, shuddering moan, fingers working rapidly against your nerves. “Fuck, I’m close, fuck, _fuck-”_

“Keep going,” he hissed again. The words were urgent and strained. Both of his hands were on your waist again now, and he was slamming you rapidly and ungently onto his cock. Every smack came in rapid succession. You knew he was losing control just like you were.

“I love that you’d kill for me. I love that you’d do anything for me.”

_“Fuck yes,”_

“I’d do anything for you too.”

“ _Oh, fuck-”_

The two of you came at the same time, your climaxes seizing you in a moment of heat and lost control. You arched your back, head thrown onto his shoulder as waves of pleasure seized your body, wracking you with violent trembles. Kylo growled into the side of your neck as you stroked him through his release. Hot spurts of cum flooded the inside of your cunt as you kept riding him, feeling yourself grow even more drenched as his cum pooled at your cunt and his thighs. He kept slamming you against him, using your pussy to ride out his pleasure, cursing wildly as he came down from his high. Finally, everything began to simmer, and you and Kylo were left hot, panting messes as you began to roll your hips slowly once again, milking your orgasm for all it was worth.

You were spent and tired, limp against his body, fingers reaching back to brush his cheeks tenderly. He hummed in approval, placing his lips against your ear as he pulled out of you but kept you positioned on his lap, arms snaking around your waist.

“You bad girl,” he breathed. “Look at the mess you've made."

You hummed on a breathy laugh, lips pressed together. You could still the walls of your pussy fluttering from the loss of contact.

“I want you in my bed tonight,” he growled. “You’ll be there by the time I come back.”

“Yes, Emperor,” you gasped, eager to spend more time with him. If it were up to you, you'd never leave his side again.

Kylo hummed in approval. Once you were ready, he helped guide you to shaky legs.

Sitting on your throne for the first time as Kylo’s Empress tomorrow was going to feel so much more delicious than you expected.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

True to his word, Kylo had to return to work. You returned to your room alone; Gil and the Knights were still on their way back from Mustafar, and there wasn’t much to do. You settled for reading a book on the lounge-chair near the balcony, feeling the breeze lick at your skin through the opened archways.

You knew your life wasn’t perfect. But these small pockets of peace and bliss were maybe the happiest you'd never felt.

All you had to do was manage the rest of it—the mess that you’d inherited.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but night had just fallen. Deep in the trances of your reading, you gasped when out of nowhere, you heard a sharp and sudden noise. You whipped your head to the right, where you’d heard it come from. Latched onto the railing of a balcony was a hook. Your breath stalled, and you faltered for only a moment.

Then, you launched yourself from your seat, book flying from your hand. Looking over the edge of the balcony, you saw, unmistakably, a rope connected to the hook.

And a man was climbing it.

Your jaw fell open. And suddenly, you felt nothing but panic.

“ _Evander?”_ you hissed.

He looked up at you as he continued to close the distance between him and the railing, that ever-present mischievous smile gleaming even through the darkness. Evander was always a stealthy soldier, and he climbed the rope rapidly, with a strange effortlessness. Instantly, you were searching the horizons; Theed’s cliffside was littered with watchtowers. Which was why you supposed Evander had waited until nightfall to pull this little stunt.

Within seconds, Evander was swinging a leg over the railing, jumping onto the balcony and into your arms. Your breath hitched as you caught him by either bicep, your gaze falling into his. Only when you saw those familiar, comforting, warming hazing eyes did you finally feel yourself relax.

He reminded you so much of home. He reminded you so much of your old life, when things had been easier.

Things certainly weren’t easy now. But they were different. Your life had changed exponentially, in ways that Evander would likely never understand.

“I can’t believe you’re here-”

Your words were cut off by furious chirping, BB-9E reeling out onto the balcony, radio satellite raised to the sky. Instantly, you dropped to your knees, holding your hands out in defense.

“ _No, no, no, no, BB-9E, wait!”_ you hissed. The beeping stopped, and the droid twitched in response to your voice. “He’s a friend,” you told him. “Please. Go back inside. Don’t alert the other guards.”

BB-9E hesitated, but at last, rolled back into your room from where he came. This time, significantly less urgently.

You sighed as you rose to your knees, putting a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “You’re so fucking stupid sometimes, Evander,” you sighed.

“You said the balcony wasn’t guarded,” he argued. “You should have mentioned the droid.”

“Well, I hardly thought you’d pop in without warning me!”

“And how, exactly, was I supposed to warn you?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fair point,” you said, gesturing to the bench that sat along the wall. “We should stay out here. And we should keep this quick. There are Sith Troopers in the hallway.”

Evander nodded slowly, sinking down onto the bench. He groaned softly as he did so, stretching out his legs. He looked tired. But Evander had always carried an effortless sort of ease with him. He always managed to radiate positivity and optimism, if not a little bit of recklessness too--so much so that most of the time, you didn’t have a clue how he did it. Your eyes softened as you watched him—obviously exhausted but full of life and hope nonetheless.

"You look fucking beautiful," he said suddenly, knitting his brows.

You released something between a scoff and a laugh. "You're surprised?"

"No," he breathed, like the answer was obvious. "You've always been beautiful. But there must be something in the water here. You're glowing."

“I’ve missed you,” you admitted.

“I’ve missed you too, Princess. It’s been hard. Not being able to keep a closer eye on you.”

“You know that I can handle myself.”

“Oh, I _absolutely_ know that you can handle yourself." Suddenly, his voice dropped. "But I don’t know if I can handle the thought of you in danger. The thought of you getting hurt.”

Your heart softened then, seeming to wilt in your chest. You stared deeply into his eyes. Finally, the smile faded from his face, morphing into something more serious. Timid. You didn’t recognize that kind of expression on him.

“Do you ever think about if things had been different?” you asked him. “If both of us had just stayed in Hapes? Maybe if you weren’t even my guard? If I wasn't supposed to be queen?”

His eyes twitched as he stared up at you. Evander was silent for a few heavy moments, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. And then: “more than you know.”

You settled yourself onto the bench next to him, exhaling. It truly felt like you were doing something wrong—and not just because you were letting in an intruder.

But because you’d fallen in love with the enemy.

Evander was eyeing you cautiously. “Relax,” he told you. “I’m here. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“I don’t really have anything to report,” you confessed. “I’ve just been waiting for word from General Organa.”

“Haven’t we all,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair, lost in thought for a moment. “The plan is to launch a full attack. But we don’t have the numbers yet to do it.”

“My coronation is tomorrow,” you told him.

“I know. The General never wanted it to come to this. It looks like you’ll have to become Empress. But just remember, Princess. It won’t be like this forever. The General has a plan to get you out of the palace before the Resistance attacks. But it’s hard to raise an army while staying under the radar. It could take weeks. Months. You have to be prepared to kill the Emperor and then leave everything behind at a moment’s notice.”

You shifted uncomfortably, taking one of his hands in your own. “Evander,” you said, your body buzzing and reeling with nerves. “I have to tell you something.”

Finally, you mustered the strength to look into his eyes. He wore an expression of confusion and concern. Empathy. It only made you feel worse.

“You need you to swear you won’t tell my mother.”

“You know I can’t make that promise.”

“Evander,” you said, more sternly this time. “It’s what the General wants.”

He sighed, mulling it over for a few seconds before finally, he nodded. “If the General is behind it, then you have my word I’ll back whatever it is.”

You weren’t so sure. But somehow, you gathered the strength to go on. Even if you already knew how this conversation was going to go.

“She’s asked me to spare the Emperor’s life,” you told him bleakly. “And I’ve agreed.”

Evander looked lost for several seconds, searching your face for any indication that you’d misspoken, or he might have heard you incorrectly. Once he realized that you were standing by your words, his eyes went wide, and he leaned away from you just a hairsbreadth. Still, he didn’t drop your hand.

“You aren’t serious.”

“I am. That’s what was in the letter she sent with you. The one she forbade anyone but me from seeing. She knows there’s still good in her son. And Evander.” You squeezed his hand. “I know it too. I’ve _seen_ it.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Think about it,” you urged him. “Why else would he have chosen not to use the planet destroyers? Evander, I’m starting to think that every bad word I’ve ever heard about him is completely exaggerated. I thought he was going to be a sick monster, a sadistic, evil, ruthless authoritarian. But he _isn’t._ Evander, he was closed off to me at first, but he’s been kind to me.”

"Do you hear yourself? 'Every bad word was an exaggeration?' He's a _murderer._ He's with the _Order._ He _leads_ the Order!"

"And yet there's been peace ever since he's come to power," you told him.

You’d be lying if you said that a part of your heart wasn’t telling you to flee with Evander, to let him pull you in his arms and take you home. And you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that wasn’t still in love with him. You’d been head over heels for Evander since childhood, for almost as long as you could remember. But now that you’d met Kylo, everything had changed. Now that Kylo was in your life, your feelings for everyone else paled in comparison. And you couldn’t stop it.

But as Evander stared back into your eyes, you saw that he only seemed to falter.

“Y-you’re not actually…you don’t actually enjoy being with him, right? You’re not actually happy being his wife, are you?”

You swallowed heavily. “You know that I didn’t have a choice in marrying him, Evander. You know this was all a setup.”

His brow was furrowed as he searched your eyes. “That’s not an answer,” he whispered.

“Evander,” you said, clasping his hands with urgency. “If General Organa is asking me to spare his life, there _must_ be a reason. I’m telling you. Kylo Ren still hasn’t fallen completely to the Dark Side. He’s not as evil as people have made him out to be. He’s not some cold-blooded murderer. I know he’s done some cruel things in the past, but you have to believe me when I say I’ve never seen him kill an innocent. I’ve never even really seen him lose him temper,” you said, not including the times that he’d lost his temper with _you,_ and used means of punishment that honestly, you weren’t against.

“Wait,” he murmured, eyes falling on your ring. Gently, he lifted your hand to his eyes, examining the stone glistening on your ring finger. “Did Kylo give you this?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“This is Sarrassion Iron,” Evander said, raising his gaze towards yours, slowly dropping your hand.

“I know,” you said. “I mean…Kylo told me. It’s a rare metal from asteroids.”

Evander was staring at you intently now, brow knit in concern. You stared right back, eyes swimming with confusion.

“Don’t you know what that is?” he asked you.

“It’s just a wedding ring, Evander. We’re married."

“No,” he said. “ _That_ type of metal. It was used by the Sith. They say it can influence people…seduce them to the Dark Side more easily. Did he give this to you?”

Your mind was swimming, and suddenly, you felt numb and dizzy at the same time. You pressed your fingers to your temples, trying to steady yourself. “I-”

“Oh, kriff,” Evander breathed. “That’s why you don’t want to kill him. He’s turning you, don’t you see? Twisting your mind. _This_ is how he turns you to the Dark Side.”

“No,” you sputtered. Even if that were true, even if he _was_ trying to turn you, General Organa had asked you to spare his life. That decision was hers to begin with. But the words couldn’t even make it out of your mouth. All you could manage to sputter was a sad little: “he wouldn’t do that.”

Evander clasped your hands, pulling you towards him. You gasped softly, eyes flickering up to lock with his.

“He wouldn’t,” you whispered.

“He would. Listen to me,” he pressed. “It’s not your fault. He’s a monster. But you have to remember that, Princess. You have to remember _what he is.”_ Silence, for a few moments. You heard your breath shudder and your body began to tremble. It would be so easy. So much easier for you to go home with him. So much less pain. It probably would have spared you from a lifetime of agony.

He breathed your name. Your ears perked, and your eyes swam with tears. You couldn’t even remember how long it had been…how long since you’d heard someone say your _name._ Your _true_ name—not “Princess” or “Mrs. Ren” or “Empress-to-be.” The tears spilled over your cheeks.

Instinctively, you found yourself leaning in. Your forehead found Evander’s, and it felt familiar, it felt like _home._ It was so much easier back then, when you were just a princess with a crush, and when he was your guard who would never be able to tell you if he felt the same way.

Again, Evander breathed your name. You trembled as his hands found your biceps and held you gently. It was so comforting to lean into him, the embodiment of your old life, your home.

And then he kissed you.

Evander’s lips pressed gently to yours. You didn’t kiss back; you stayed still, but your body relaxed, and you sighed gently. He tasted like home, like warm Hapan summers and freshwater springs, like the old library where your tutoring took place, where you'd first learned of the Jedi. He felt familiar. He felt like the man you should have loved, but couldn't.

He pulled away a hairsbreadth, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered. You shuddered; you never knew for sure if Evander had ever felt the same way about you, because anything between the two of you would have been forbidden. It was comforting to finally learn that all along, he _had_ felt the same way. You hadn't imagined it. Your hope hadn't been for nothing.

“Evander,” you breathed, lifting your hand to gently stroke the side of his face. If only you could tell him how much everything had changed.

But you didn’t have the strength to say it to him. And you didn’t have the stomach to push him away, to hurt him, when he kissed you again.

You pursed your lips slightly but didn’t deepen the kiss. You let yourself adjust to the feeling. You let him comfort you.

It would have been so much easier to follow him, to go home, to leave. It would have been so much easier if it was _him._

But it wasn’t. Because for better or for worse, it would always be Kylo.

But you didn’t have time to tell him, didn’t even have the chance to gingerly push him away, to turn him down gently. Because suddenly, there was a noise from behind you—footsteps brushing against the floor of your balcony.

You turned around.

“Kylo,” you breathed, heart sinking to your stomach.

He wore an expression you’d never seen on him before. His eyes were wide and brows lifted, half in surprise and half in confusion. For a moment, he looked nothing but hurt. You could see threads of turmoil etched onto his face as well. It crushed your heart to look at him—because you were his wife, and he’d trusted you. And he’d found you on your own balcony, kissing another man.

It was gutting to look at him. To watch him search your gaze, waiting for you to tell him it wasn’t what it looked like.

But you couldn’t.

And in that moment, you realized there was only one thing worse than seeing Kylo in pain.

And that was seeing him angry.

Kylo exhaled the same moment Evander leapt to his feet, drawing his blaster. Kylo raised his fist, and the gun clattered from Evander’s hand. For a fleeting moment, you searched your friend, making sure was alright. When you turned back to Kylo, the pain was still there, but had transformed completely.

Now, there was a fire in his eyes too. A sharp fury that you hadn’t even seen on him before. He was hitched forward at the waist, face twitching with rage. Cold fear doused your body as Kylo’s lips curled in fury, lifting his clenched fist. In a swift motion, Evander was wrenched up into the air by an invisible force, hovering several inches off the ground. Panic seized you as you turned to him.

He sputtered, opening his mouth but failing to form any words. You were frozen to the spot, helpless, stomach roiling with sickness as you heard a faint but unmistakable cracking sound. You winced, not sure what had broken, not even sure how to register what had just happened. A part of you had the impulse to move, but another part of you felt like you were moving through water, through the fog of a dream.

But slowly, blood began to dribble from Evander’s lips. He coughed, and the redness sprayed the air in front of him, splattering down onto his shirt and jacket. The crushing realization of what was about to happen hit you like a mountainous weight, but you didn’t have time to scream.

Your claims that Kylo Ren wasn’t an evil man hung heavy in the air as he snapped Evander’s neck with the same effort and care that one may have snapped a toothpick.

There wasn’t enough time to look away as Evander’s body plummeted to the stone floor. You didn’t even process the sound of his skull cracking at the force at which he hit the ground until after his corpse was already limp and lifeless. Stunned, you stared at the pool of blood seeping rapidly into the cracks of the patio.

He was dead.

“No!” you shrieked, flinging yourself against Kylo’s frame, fists raised. But Kylo was quicker, and the moment you were in his reach, he seized a fistful of your hair, slamming you against the wall.

You turned your head just in time, so your right cheekbone took the brunt of the force. If you’d been a half-second too late, Kylo would have broken your nose. Immediately, you were checking in with your body, scanning yourself for injuries—or at least, you were trying to. But suddenly, your mind was buzzing with fear and delirium. And all you could really focus on was the monster who had your life in his hands.

“I should fucking kill you, do you understand that?” he growled. “I should end your life right now.”

“ _What have you done?_ ” you shrieked, eyes wide with terror. With the angle at which Kylo had you plastered against the wall, you had a full view of Evander’s body, blood seeping so fast out of the crack in his skull it made you nauseous.

Blood wasn’t meant to move that quickly.

You stared at Evander’s body—Evander, your oldest friend. Evander, the first man you’d ever loved. Evander, who was supposed to be by your side, in one way or another, forever. And you half-expected him to stand up, brush himself off, and attack the man who was now holding you hostage. But he didn’t. He just stayed dead. And you couldn’t understand it.

“Who was he?” Kylo growled, pulling your head back and slamming it back against the wall so forcefully that pain splintered throughout your face and made your head go dizzy. “Was he with the Resistance?”

“No!” you sobbed, tears spilling over your cheeks. “He-he was my _friend-_ my friend f-from home!”

You could feel Kylo go rigid behind you, straightening his spine. “Yes,” he breathed, remembering. “The guard. The guard you used to dream about fucking.” His grip tightened around your neck.

“He just wanted to see me!” you insisted, body wracking with heavy sobs. “Oh, god!”

“No. _No_ , he was trying to take you from me.”

“No he wasn’t, you fucking psychopath!” you shrieked, finally remembering to fight back. You wrestled against his grip, but he was too strong, throwing you back against the wall. Stars scattered your vision as your head smacked the sandstone.

“How did he get up here?” Kylo growled, fingers clenching your throat.

You coughed and sputtered against the weight of his grip. “I let him in!” you howled.

“No,” he hissed quickly. “No, you didn’t. You’re not allowed to have visitors.”

Your stomach roiled at that. You’d never tried to have visitors before—but you never knew you explicitly weren’t allowed to, even if you would have asked. All this time, you thought you were his wife. But in reality, were you just a glorified prisoner?

“I snuck him in, alright?” you screamed, beginning to thrash against him. He stepped closer, pinning to you the wall with his entire frame. You gasped for air, your lungs crushed between Kylo’s enormous body and the standstone.

Kylo smooshed your face against the wall, moving his hand to your face. You could feel him pressing so hard against you that the sides of your teeth were digging into the skin on the inside of your cheek. He was about to crush your skull.

“How did you do it?”

“I let him climb up the balcony,” you admitted, sobbing.

“Why?” he growled.

“He just missed me! He wanted to see me is all! He came here from Hapes to check on me!”

“To _check_ on you?” Kylo spat. “Do you really think I’m that fucking naïve? You really believe he didn’t think you were in capable hands, living under the Order? He was going to take you from me. And you were going to let him, you little _whore_.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, the fight giving out. You were growing woozy, Kylo’s fingers against your windpipe slowly dragging you to unconsciousness. Your legs buckled and your body went slack against the wall. Your mind was tumbling into the blackness, but without even meaning to, your hand was reaching out from behind you, wriggling out from under your weight and extending towards the open door of your room.

The blackness was growing stronger. Larger. And you were slipping, realizing you were seeing a side of Kylo that you’d never seen before. The side that everyone had warned you about. He was trying to kill you. He was _going_ to kill you.

But in the midst of the numbness, suddenly, there was a buzzing. The skin of your outstretched hand prickled. A low thrumming sounded in your ears, centering you to the world beneath your feet. The buzzing intensified.

And then your lightsaber shot into your hand.

Kylo went still, grip loosening around your neck for just a moment while you gathered your thoughts, soberingly understanding what you’d just done.

You stared at the hilt of the saber, which had been sitting on your bedside table. And you understood. You’d called your weapon.

And the Force had brought it to you.

Your eyes met Kylo’s. You watched him falter only for a moment, but it was enough. And you watched the recognition in his eyes, as it dawned on him, too. He barely had enough time to reach towards his belt to grab his lightsaber as you activated the blade of your own.

Blinding white plasma shot from the hilt, plunging towards Kylo. He leapt back, igniting his weapon, but by the time he did so, you were already rounding on him.

You had no idea what you were doing. The most training you’d had was with your staff. You’d never used a weapon like this before.

But you didn’t have a choice.

Your weapon plummeted down onto him from above, but he blocked it in an instant, flinging you to the side so forcefully that you clattered against the wall of the balcony. Kylo was on you immediately, pressing you against the railing. Panic mounted in your throat as you looked down over your shoulder; if he managed to push you over the edge, the height of the fall would kill you. But as you turned back to him, the red plasma from his weapon just inches from your face, you sensed hesitation within him.

Grunting, you struck your blade forward, but he dodged you, spinning over his shoulder and stalking backwards into your room through the opened balcony doors. You rounded on him, striking madly where you could. He blocked each one, spinning and ducking to avoid every one of your blows.

You growled, sprinting forward and striking him from the side. But he extended his hand and your blade stopped mid-motion, caught in the throngs of the Force. You met his eyes for one fearful moment before the bottom of his boot found your stomach and you were toppling onto your back, the wind knocked from your lungs.

Your blade sliced through an end table and the vase of flowers that the Knights had brought you. The pieces clattered to the floor as you rolled to avoid Kylo’s strikes; he rounded on you, blade coming down again and again until you could finally bring up your own saber to meet his.

Kylo growled audibly. There was a noise at the door, people entering the room. But Kylo held out a hand, chin twitching over his shoulder. “Do nothing,” he ordered in a snarl before centering his eyes back on you.

You rolled elegantly onto your side, sliding out your leg to trip him. He stumbled but didn’t fall, cursing loudly, angrily as he caught himself. By then, you were on your feet, raising your weapon once more.

But before you could strike him, you felt your body go stiff.

Kylo’s spine straightened as his free hand shot out, extending towards you. Instantly, you felt your body seize, muscles and mind going still and rigid. You couldn’t move. And suddenly, you couldn’t think, either—the only thing in your mind was what he was searching through. What he wanted to see.

Your mind flooded with images of Evander. You took a deep breath as best you could, desperately trying to center yourself, to resist. Just as Finn had taught you. But he was going deeper. Searching you harder. That sharp, familiar pain was spindling through your body, coursing so deeply that it felt like it would shatter your bones.

Kylo was using the one weapon on you that he promised he never would.

Now, he’d broken that promise.

Even the sweat dripping down your forehead was painful, not unlike a small trail of fire bursting across your skin; every sensation was heightened. Kylo was ripping through you without even having to touch you. He was tearing you apart.

You groaned in pain, clenching your teeth so hard you feared they would shatter. You tried to resist, but you could feel it all slipping through your fingers. He had you in his grip, and he was finally going to conquer your mind. Discover your secrets.

And then he was going to kill you.

You inhaled, mustering the last bit of strength you had. More blinding pain coursed through your body. It took everything you had, but your fury spurred you onwards. In one swift motion, you managed to lift your arm, shooting it out towards Kylo.

The two of you stood there, two Force-users at odds, hands reaching towards each other in opposition. Both you and Kylo had your teeth bared, sweating profusely as each of you tried to overpower the other, each of you trying to resist. You felt the unmistakable sensation of energy surging through your fingers, overtaking the power that was binding you. And in an instant, Evander was gone from your mind.

And someone else stood in his place.

A woman.

The first thing you noticed that she was painfully young, _far_ too young to feel the pain and sorrow and fear that you sensed from her.

The second was that she was dead. She lied in a dark room, a cavernous hall, some sort of cave. Everything was doused in darkness and cracked stone, and there was nothing else but disparity and death. From above, you thought you could make out the distance sound of ships and gunfire. But the vision in your mind was wavering, threatening to slip through your grip the tighter you tried to hold onto it.

And then it hit you—overwhelming sorrow. And more than sorrow—fear. You inhaled deeply, realizing that whoever the girl was, you weren’t looking at her through your own eyes.

You were seeing her through Kylo’s.

Agony seized your spirit, threatening to make you collapse, to fall to your knees. Somehow, you managed to stay standing, staring at her lifeless, hazel eyes, the gentle but empty slopes of her features. Something else crippled your heart, too, but you couldn’t place it. Your emotions were a storm inside your body.

No— _Kylo’s_ emotions.

You could feel him. You could feel everything that he’d felt.

You could feel physical pain, too—a sundering ache in your bones, as if you’d been dropped from a great height. You looked around; there was a throne, too, or what was left of one. Rubble and stone clattered the outskirts of your vision, but everything was fuzzy and out of focus. You could feel yourself slipping from the memory, but you didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave her. She was your ticket home. You were supposed to save her.

Reaching for her as you felt yourself tumbling back into the throngs of reality, you heard yourself cry out:

_“Rey!”_

You gasped. Your eyes opened, throat burning from the word that had ripped out of your throat. And Kylo Ren was standing in front of you again.

You watched as he wrenched his hand away, flinging his arm back down to his side so forcefully that the momentum of the motion nearly toppled him to the ground. Grunting, he doubled over, panting heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead and onto the floor. You met his eyes and found yourself staring into a dark sea of fury that you weren’t even familiar with yet. ‘Troopers had arrived, too. Suddenly, there were a dozen guards surrounding you, their guns pointed in your direction.

Kylo was heaving down deep inhales, trying to steady his breath. You’d never seen him look this unhinged, this exhausted, this _furious._

“Lower your weapons,” he spat ferociously. Instantly, the ‘troopers complied, lowering their guns. You were surprised; you thought he’d be ready to kill you.

“You’ll see that the Princess does not leave this room until I permit it,” he snarled, flinging himself around to face all of the ‘troopers, his face skewed in rage as he screamed at them. “And you’ll make sure that her fucking balcony door is _locked._ ” He pointed towards the open doors, surging his arm like a furious, immature child.

With that, Kylo spun around, eyes centering on you.

The look on his face set in your mind like stone, burrowing into the depths of your brain and burning into your memory. His brow was drawn, nostrils flared, lips curled. Hatred and rage simmered in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to kill you. He looked like he _hated_ you. It made your blood run cold.

“You will not leave this room until I decide whether or not you’ll be held accountable for _treason._ ” Your stomach surged to your throat. “You will not be fed unless I permit it, and you will not see another living soul unless I decide to be kind enough to let you,” he spat. “If I were you, I would start praying to the _gods_ you never shut up about _._ There’s no telling whether you’ll live to see another day.”

Kylo flung himself over his shoulder so forcefully that you could hear the swish of his cape. And as he pounded towards the exit, he tilted his head over his shoulder to address the ‘troopers once more. “Search the grounds. Ensure that there are no more intruders who wish to help our _Princess_ escape,” he sneered.

Within moments, ‘troopers were moving throughout your quarters. You watched numbly as they dragged Evander’s body from the balcony, and while you tried to listen them bar your door, you realized you were only half-processing your surroundings. You found yourself collapsed onto your knees but didn’t remember how or when your legs had given out. And then you realized that you were trembling. You felt ill. 

They’d even taken BB-9E.

You were completely alone. 

For the first time since arriving in Naboo, you were by yourself. Inhaling shakily, for the first time in weeks, you let yourself begin to cry. And then the tears only intensified, and low screams were ripping from your chest. Tears blurred your vision. You shrieked until you were numb, placing your palms in front of your eyes, trying to steady your vision. But everything was fuzzy. Everything felt surreal.

Kylo Ren had been many things to you. When you’d met him, he’d seemed impossibly uptight and cruel. But as you’d gotten to know him, you saw that other side of him. His capacity for kindness. He was never patient, but he could be understanding. He could be empathetic. He was impossibly nuanced, woven and tangled with complexities and contradictions.

But he’d never been a monster.

Not until now.

Once, Gil had told you that ever since Exegol, Kylo Ren hadn't been the same. That he'd become a shell, a shadow of his former self.

Now, he was awake once again.

And you had awoken him.


	22. Kneel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's fit: Marwan & Khaled FW18-19
> 
> https://www.marwankhaled.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/P3fuUND-2.jpg

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Two days.

Two days without a single word from Kylo Ren. Two days without a word from _anyone._

You'd been locked in your room for a full 48 hours, half of your belongings confiscated. BB-9E was long gone, as was your saber, as well as any and all objects that could possibly be used as a weapon. Your limbs were littered with scrapes and bruises from your battle with Kylo Ren, but they hadn't sent in a doctor, or even a handmaiden to check on you. You'd never felt so alone.

But in all honesty, maybe that was for the best.

You didn't think you could stomach looking at anybody affiliated with the Final Order. All of them were grade-a Imperial scum as far as you were concerned. Still, you'd gone two days wondering whether or not Kylo Ren was going to have you killed, or better yet, kill you himself. After all, he'd told you himself that there was no guarantee you'd live to see another day. You were surprised he hadn't ended your life already. All you wanted was to know whether or not you were going to live, or how much time you had left. Once the sun was setting on the second day, you felt like you were losing your mind.

You were pacing blindly, and could feel the anxiety mounting in your body, the nerves pumping through your blood, making your pulse skyrocket and stifle you. Once you felt like you were about to pass out, you gripped your desk, trying center your breath. Breathing deeply, you let your eyes close, reaching out with your mind, searching for peace as you sat down onto the floor, crossing your legs. You didn't even know where you were looking. You didn't even know what you were _doing._ All you knew was that there had to be a Jedi out there _somewhere,_ someone who could hear you. Feel you. Maybe just sense you. You cleared your mind just how Kylo had taught you, thinking of home. Thinking of General Organa and Finn.

And after what felt like hours, when you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your quarters in Naboo.

You were in Leia's study.

Or at least, a part of you was.

Your brow furrowed, and you glanced around. Strangely, you didn't feel like you were in your body. As your vision adjusted, you tried to gather your surroundings. It felt like a dream, like you were looking down on a scene instead of standing inside of it. As if everything was surrounding you, swallowing you, but only just. Your vision centered on Leia, and you realized that she seemed solid. Like it wasn't just a vision, or something happening in your head. You were _there._ You could hear the pages of her notes rustling together as she shuffled them. She looked distressed as she read through each one, likely going through correspondences and reports. Whatever she was looking at, it didn't look like she was pleased.

She looked tired, too. For a moment, she didn't even seem to realize that you were there. But then, slowly, her eyes finally lifted from her work. General Organa removed her glasses, rising to her feet. "Who's there?" she called.

"I can see you," you muttered. "You can't see me?"

Leia jolted visibly, placing a hand to her heart. You hadn't meant to startle her, but it became clear in an instant that she could hear you. Sense you. She just couldn't _see_ you. Sure enough, when you tried to look down at your own hands, you saw nothing. Nothing but empty, open space--as if you were invisible, even to yourself.

Your image of the room wasn't that great, either. While it at least _felt_ like you were physically there, even though you couldn't place your own body, everything looked like it was underwater, waves and ripples contorting your vision. Her voice sounded like it was echoing from the opposite end of a tunnel, even though she was right in front of you.

You had the impulse to speak, but she quickly held up a hand as she crossed the room to bring herself in front of you, below you, beside you--you couldn't quite tell. Suddenly, you were just watching her move, and she felt close to you.

"Don't try and say too much. This was how my brother passed. Used up all the strength he had left."

"How is this happening?" you asked. Your voice was loud inside of your own head, pounding in your ears. And you watched Leia mull over your words. She could _hear_ you, but you didn't know if she could hear your voice, or only sense it within her mind.

"You're projecting yourself," she murmured, eyes glazing past you, _through_ you. "Through the Force. Have you ever done this before?"

"No," you stammered, shaking your head. "I've heard of this. He...he told me about it. Even by just trying, I should be dead. Why aren't I dead?"

"Ever since you began your training with Finn, you've been able to resist invasions of the mind. Not to mention you've survived my son, as well. Lasted this long without giving him a hint of our whereabouts. You're clearly an unusually powerful telepathic."

"Am I gonna die?" you croaked, voice breaking weakly.

"No, dear, I don't think you're going to die," she chuckled softly, though her voice was tired. "Do you feel alright?"

"General. I can't do this."

Her brows lifted as she searched the general vicinity, as if she was searching for your ghost. She turned around herself slowly, eyes scanning the room. "What's happened?"

"Evander's dead."

She shook her head. "No," she whispered.

"Kylo killed him."

Leia exhaled, lowering her gaze and turning her back to you. Slowly, she made her way towards her desk, bracing her hands on top of it. It took every ounce of strength you had to stay put, doing nothing but watching her while she suffered.

"Then it's as we feared," she murmured, chin tilting over her shoulder. "He knows of the Resistance, then? How long do we have?"

You shook your head, feeling tears rise in your chest rather than in your eyes. Every part of you felt tight, but you couldn't identify where. "He doesn't know. I mean, he knows the Resistance is back, but he doesn't have any idea who or where they are. He thought Evander was just a guard from home."

Slowly, she turned back to you, and you saw that her brows were pinched, expression drawn in confusion. "My son kills for power, not personal gain. Usually," she added, quirking a brow and giving a knowing look. "If he didn't know Evander was with the Resistance, why did he kill him?"

"Evander kissed me," you confessed. "Kylo found us."

The general exhaled, nodding somberly as she processed this information. "That angered him?"

"Clearly," you snapped, voice wavering.

For a long few moments, the general said nothing. She nodded slowly, bringing her hands to her lips, deep in thought.

"What?" you pressed urgently. Your vision on the room was loose and weak. You could feel it threatening to slip away from you with every passing second. You weren't sure how much time you had left.

"You won't like it," she muttered over her shoulder.

"Indulge me," you urged her, your voice colder than intended.

She sighed heavily. "If my son killed for something so simple, then perhaps he did it for _you._ "

"Me?" you demanded, defensive. Something flickered inside of you. Around you. You couldn't tell. But something surged.

"Dear, it isn't your fault. The fault lies only with the man who swung the blade, and my son will carry the burden and the blame for the rest of his days. I only mean to say that if he killed the Commander in hopes of keeping you to himself, perhaps he can be saved after all."

"I don't know," you stammered, unable to process what she was saying to you. "I don't know if he can be turned, but _please,_ just tell me what to do. If you want me to kill him, I'll kill him, and if you don't, then I won't, but _please._ I'll do whatever you tell me to do but I can't make this decision on my own." your voice had reduced to a whisper. Every part of you felt like it was quaking. The air around you raged, as if the walls of nothingness were closing in on you. You felt the strong urge to cry, but had no eyes to cry from.

"Do you think he can be turned?"

"I don't know," you echoed, shakily this time. "All I know is that he's not who I thought he was. I thought...I'm so afraid. I thought I could trust him. I thought I could _turn_ him. I thought I was going to be the one to bring him back..." your words trailed off, and your voice wavered as you tried to hold back sobs.

"Oh, no," the general whispered, tilting her head, gazing at you with the upmost sympathy in her kind but tired eyes. "You love him."

"I don't know," you stammered tightly. "I don't know what to think. I've never _hated_ someone so much in my life, but the thought of him..." The words died. You couldn't say that the thought of him dying was _crippling_ you.

"What's happened between the two of you?" Leia whispered.

"Everything," you whispered back. "And I thought he..."

"You thought he loved you?" she pressed.

You felt yourself twitch, as if your very bones were quaking with sorrow and fear. Your vision on Leia's study grew foggier. "He's not capable of love." The words were barely audible.

"My son is capable of love," Leia told you. "What he may not be capable of is _admitting_ it."

You didn't know what to say. So you said nothing, as the room around you began to vibrate. The familiar sensation of the Force was growing slowly--drumming in your ears like a tiny, invisible architect was pounding away at the insides of your skull.

"You poor girl," she whispered. "I never should have asked this of you." General Organa sighed heavily.

Suddenly, the sobs wracking you began to diminish, as gradually, you began to find your breath again. The Force grew quieter. Your vision lifted to meet the General. Once you did, all the tears inside of you were stalled, a sickening wave of realization bathing your body and mind steadily and all at once.

"Why did you?" you breathed.

Leia's face was unchanged; she still wore that distant, lost look. There was something behind her eyes, too. Maybe not fear—fear was too strong of a word. But caution, maybe.

If she was afraid of you, she had every right to be.

Because Kylo Ren had already begun to teach you the ways of the Force— _his_ way. And she had practically shoved you into his arms.

"You knew about me," you told her. "You knew that was why I could block Finn out of my mind. Kylo sensed within me after mere _days._ You knew what I am. And you didn't tell me. Even though you knew that Kylo would want to twist my power for his own gain."

Leia sighed as her eyes shut in defeat; the woman had been through so much. She's lost her husband, her brother, her army—and in even more ways, she'd lost her only child. You'd known her for a year, but in all honesty, you'd never seen her look this weary.

Not until now.

"You left me vulnerable to him," you said, voice beginning to shake. "And you didn't even _warn_ me."

"I know," she muttered, gaze glued to the floor. Her chin shook a little. She looked conflicted. She looked regretful. But more than anything, she looked exhausted.

"Why?"

"It was my worst and most honest mistake," she confessed. "I thought if you knew, the mission would fail. I thought that if he was the one to discover your power, he would see you as a light. Remember his connection to the Jedi. I thought it would bring him home."

"He sees me as nothing but a tool. Or better yet—a _toy."_

"I am sorry," she breathed. "There wasn't another woman in the galaxy I believed capable of pulling off this mission. I _needed_ you. And I feared that if you knew the truth, you would have refused to go. But it wasn't my secret to keep. And I'm sorry."

Your mind was swimming with thoughts, one piling on top of the other until your head felt so full you feared your skull would burst at the seams. "I'm not angry at you. You did what was best for the mission. But I'm _terrified._ Because _he's_ my teacher now. And his way is the only way I've ever known." The waves inside of you were growing again, crashing against your soul so forcefully you thought you'd break.

"No," Leia assured you. "You are not alone. From one Princess to another," she said, giving a sad smile as she gazed around the room. _"Never_ forget that."

"General," you whispered. "What do I do? What if he's not ready to come back when the Resistance attacks?"

"Then our soldiers will find you and bring you home," she breathed, eyes darting back and forth, as if she was trying to find you. "Right now, just try to survive."

You had so many questions. When was the attack going to come? What if the Resistance was crushed? What would happen to you? You tried to speak, but the words never made it out. The image slipped through your fingers, and you collapsed on your side in the same instant you opened your eyes, finding yourself back in your bedroom in Naboo. You were exhausted. Your chest felt tight. Every inch of you felt damp with sweat. Not convinced you weren't about to die, you crawled to your bed, only just able to clamber onto it. You hadn't realized that you were crying, but you didn't even try to stop the tears as you shut your eyes, gracelessly falling into a deep sleep.

What felt like only seconds later, you were awake once more.

A sound jolted you from your slumber. You shot up in bed, looking around wildly. The sun was shining blindingly on the other side of your barred windows, which meant you must have been out for several hours at the least. But it had only felt like you'd blinked.

You heard your name, but the sound was muffled as the fuzziness of sleep faded from your body. Turning to your doorway, you saw someone standing beneath its treshhold.

Gil.

"Princess," he repeated. "Are you alright?"

"Gil," you breathed, watching him carefully as he took off his helmet. You could barely meet his eye; you knew he'd have been filled in on the situation. Not able to stomach his disappointed expression, you stumbled from the bed and into the bathroom, muttering "one second" over your shoulder.

Once in the refresher, you steadied your hands on the counter. You gave yourself a quick refresh, brushing your teeth and splashing water on your face, not bothering to try and fix the absolute travesty that was your hair. Your bones felt like weights; you weren't eager to try Force Projecting again anytime soon. Not to mention you hadn't even projected your full image. Still, you felt like absolute death itself.

Rubbing your eyes as you walked from the refresher and back into your bedroom, you still weren't able to meet Gil's eyes. Even so, you figured you had it in you to give a conversation a try. You sighed shakily, taking a few steps to sit on the floor at the foot of your bed, leaning back against it. It had been so long since you'd seen anyone at all. And now that someone was here, you had the strange urge to burrow farther, to stay out of sight, to crawl into a ball where no one could see you and just _cry._

Gil settled in front of you on the floor, crossing his legs and bowing his head slightly. Stars, like this, he only looked like a kid. You supposed he wasn't much more than that—just a kid thrust into the depths of manhood in an unforgiving world.

When he rose his head to look at you, your heart sank. He had a split lip, and a few bruises and scratches on his face. You felt sick; there was no telling what Kylo did to him. As far as you knew, he hadn't been punished for teaching you how to fly a TIE fighter. After your supposed "betrayal," Kylo must have had a change of heart.

You looked at him expectantly, anxiety roiling in your gut, waiting for him to tell you if you were going to be killed for treason. He was breathing heavily, staring back at you just as hard. After a few moments of tense, unbearable silence, he finally found the strength to speak.

"You're not going to be executed. Or imprisoned." You inhaled heavily, oxygen and relief flooding your body so quickly you thought you were going to pass out. "You'll still be coronated; your position as Empress is secure, and Master is prepared to offer you a full pardon for treason."

You stirred; " _treason"_ was such a heavy word. You hadn't wanted him dead. Though in the moment, you weren't sure _what_ you'd wanted. Or expected.

"On one condition."

Gil's words made you freeze. As you gazed at him now, you felt the panic slowly seeping back into your blood. Whatever he was going to say, it couldn't be good.

"What?" you murmured nervously.

He took a few more breaths before speaking, as if trying to prepare himself. "Everybody knows what happened. Stormtroopers talk, and now all of Theed knows that you, the Emperor's wife, attacked and tried to kill him."

"I was defending myself!" you sputtered.

"I know that." Gil's eyes were heavy, as if just looking at you was a weight on his shoulders. Your heart clenched; you didn't know if you'd ever felt as bad for someone as you did for Gil. He was subservient. Clearly, he was devoted to his master. Then why was there so much sadness in his eyes? 

"But soon," he continued, "the whole galaxy will know. Master cannot allow you to become Empress unless you make a public display of your loyalty. He says he should have done this in the first place. That if he'd made it clearer what your position is, what's expected of you, none of this would have happened."

You felt as though you were drowning. You tried to catch your breath, but couldn't seem to do it. Everything felt woozy. "Okay..." you murmured, trying to steel yourself. "What does he want me to do?"

"All he really wants is for you to swear your fealty to him in the throne room. In a ceremony. In front of everyone he wishes to attend."

You nodded slowly. It sounded like little more than a ceremonial ego stroke, and you were sure you could handle it; you'd certainly been through worse. "Okay," you muttered, nodding.

"Princess..." Gil murmured, taking your hand. Your breath abandoned your lungs. "He will want to humiliate you. This isn't just about declaring your loyalty to the Order, it's about devoting yourself to _him._ Not to mention, he'll want you to feel punished for going against him."

You shook your head. "He only likes to...he only likes to _humiliate_ me when we're...alone," you said, dropping your voice—not that there was anyone else in the room to hear what you were saying.

Gil took a deep breath. "This...isn't like that."

Suddenly, you felt very cold. And you realized that this kind of humiliation wasn't about pleasure...not yours, at least. He wanted to degrade you in front of his entire Order— _just_ to declare his own power.

"I feel sick," you said, standing up.

"Princess," Gil muttered, quickly following, fingers gently going to your arms, as if he was going to hold you up if you passed out, which honestly was beginning to feel like a real possibility.

"I just..." you said, head spinning. "He's never...this isn't _him,"_ you argued. "He's only ever wanted to do that when we're alone, where he can protect me. And afterwards, he always makes sure that I'm alright. Gil. He isn't like this."

The look he was giving you pierced your heart. Pity. "This is the Master I know. If he's offering you a second chance, you should take it."

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

You dressed in something you knew would make him mad, but that he'd be unable to speak out about without seeming like a fool in front of his councilmen and officials. It was a draping blue gown that covered your shoulders with soft, billowy cape, but sported cutouts at your navel and hips. The neckline was plunging, the bodice beaded with heavy aquamarine stones. You figured it was pretty much all you could do in terms of claiming your power.

As you climbed the steps to the throne room, two Sith Troopers marching behind you, their guns not-so-subtly aimed at your back, you tried to breathe evenly. If Kylo Ren was offering you a pardon, you didn't expect his guards would shoot you as long as you obeyed.

Still. This wasn't what you'd signed up for. You didn't think you would have to endure this kind of treatment.

Clearly, you'd overestimated Kylo Ren and the type of person he was. Or maybe you'd underestimated him. You weren't sure.

You focused on the sound of your heels echoing in the cavernous halls of Theed Palace; the walls and domes were so colossal that even the tiniest sounds seemed impossibly loud—not to mention every step you took was propelling the fear already mounting inside of your body. You hadn't seen or spoken to Kylo Ren in two days. And you had no idea what to expect. As you stepped on the landing to the throne room, you kept your eyes glued to the floor, genuinely unsure if you had the strength to meet Ren's gaze.

But as you began to walk, you noticed how silent the room was. You knew there were guards and councilmembers, most likely all of the Knights—you were being _watched._ And if you had to put on a show, you didn't want it to be one of fear and timidity.

So, even though you didn't feel ready, when you were halfway between the grand staircase and the throne, you finally raised your gaze, and let it fall on the Emperor.

He was seated in his throne, not all that far away from you, but sitting on top of that platform, it felt like miles lied in between you and him. He sat up straight, spine rigid and serious, gaze locked on you, eyes and features hidden behind his helmet. Every last inch of him was covered in either leather or steel or iron, gloved fingers gripping the armrests of his throne, heavily booted feet planted on the ground, legs parted. The iron that coursed through his mask was all but glowing. You wondered if the dark energy pooling inside of it helped him play the part of the monster, or helped diffuse his guilt. But you didn't know for sure, and you figured you never would.

Because you had completely lost Kylo Ren's trust.

And he'd completely lost yours.

Now, you were back where you'd started. No—it was even worse than that. When you'd come to Kylo Ren in the beginning, he hadn't _trusted_ you, but you were still his ally. Someone who was obligated in one way or the other to be on his team. That's why you'd at least been palatable to him.

But now, you'd betrayed him. Openly.

And you had no idea what you'd unleashed.

But you were about to find out.

He stared down at you and you stared back, realizing he looked more like a statue than anything else. Forged in dark iron, the perfect picture of cruelty and terror. And you couldn't sense any humanity inside of him.

He looked like nothing but a suit of armor.

You landed a few feet in front of the throne. As a princess, you knew that people were supposed to bow to kings and queens, but certain Pre-Empire traditions somehow felt outdated in the Order. You knew that Kylo Ren didn't love living in Naboo of all places, and felt more at home aboard the Steadfast or another Dreadnoughts.

No. Acting like a princess would probably make things worse.

So you stood before him, hands feeling like clammy weights at your sides, heart battering so forcefully in your chest you were convinced that it would burst through your ribcage and land in a sad, bloody heap at the Emperor's feet.

But you held your breath. You were dying to get it over with, but you knew if you spoke first, there was no telling what he'd do to you.

After a few heavy, endless moments, you thought he would say nothing. Or at the very least, you thought he'd want to kick off the evening with a few insults. But he didn't. When Kylo Ren finally spoke, he got right down to business, addressing you like you were a complete stranger.

Which was almost worse.

"You will stand here and explain to my council how you let an intruder breech the castle, disregarding protocol, because you were too stupid to know otherwise. You will also explain how you raised your weapon to me not in defiance, but because I am your Master, and you foolishly believed that you were allowed to do so. Again. Because you're too stupid to know better."

Your first instinct was to cling to your anger. The second was to stare at him in bewilderment. Surely nobody was going to believe that idiotic story—that you'd thought you'd engaged in a sparring session right after he'd killed your oldest friend; everyone with half a brain clearly knew that you _attacked_ Kylo Ren. But his word was law. And as ridiculous as it was, it was the story that was going to save your ass.

Clenching your teeth, you glared daggers at him. You could see it in his body—the coldness. The gravity of what he was doing to you. As if he knew how important it was to show you exactly who he was, the power he possessed, all the ways he could make your life miserable if he chose to do so. Staring at him, you searched for the man who had lied with you in Varykino on your honeymoon, spooning your body as you fell asleep. The man who had given you a bath when you were injured, thoroughly scrubbing your skin. The man who had whispered praises to you while he gently fucked you on the balcony.

A part of you felt bad for him, thinking of all the ways had life had gone wrong, how much he must have endured to believe that everything was black and white, that you either belonged to him or were his enemy.

But then you thought of Evander. And suddenly, all empathy you felt towards Kylo Ren was gone.

You cursed yourself as tears mounted in your eyes. You'd actually thought this man could be saved. No—you thought that _you'd_ be the one to save him. And now, you had no idea— _none at all—_ how you were supposed to complete General Organa's mission, especially when it was the very mission that got her Commander killed.

Now, you were back to square one—surviving the Final Order while you figured out what the hell you were supposed to do, and how you were going to do it alone.

"I let an intruder onto the balcony because I was too stupid to know that I was breaking the rules," you stammered through gritted teeth, jaw quaking. "I raised my weapon not to kill you, but because you are my Master, and I thought I was allowed to do so."

"Why?" he asked, voice empty and jagged as it ripped through his vocoder. Staring down at you as if you were a young student that he was scolding.

You were trembling so hard you thought your bones would begin to shatter. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, and by some miracle, managed to steady yourself enough to look at him again. "Because I was too foolish to know better."

Kylo exhaled. "See, Grand Moff? She's not a _threat._ She's just a stupid little girl. Hardly a risk to the Order's future," he sneered condescendingly.

Your fists clenched at your sides, and for the tiniest of seconds, you thought about giving the good old Force-choke a try. You'd never done it before, and you didn't know if you'd be able to, but now felt like as good a time as ever do put it to the test.

But you didn't. Because if all went south, which it likely would, Kylo would squash you like a bug.

Turning hotly up your heel, you started towards the exit; you'd done what he'd wanted, after all. But before you could even take two steps, two Imperial Guardsmen were suddenly in your path, crossing their scythes in front of you, blocking your way.

Kylo's voice came from behind you. "I haven't given you permission to leave. The guards answer to _me."_

Slowly, you turned around your shoulder, glaring at the man that only days ago, you'd believed you _loved._ Now, you _hated_ him.

"I've already told you everything you wanted to hear," you snapped venomously. "I apologized."

"You apologized as a diplomat. Made amends as the future Empress of the Order, ensured that you aren't a traitor," he corrected you sharply, then, lifted his chin. "What about as my wife?"

Something roiled deep within your gut as you stared at him with wide, hopeless, disdainful eyes. You'd already announced to the entire court that you were apparently a stupid, foolish girl. What else in Naboo could he possibly want from you?

Kylo motioned for you to approach him with two fingers in a commanding, curt motion. Swallowing your pride more than you already had, you took shaking steps to approach the throne, climbing the steps of the platform, raising your chin. You were trembling with humiliation and rage, blushing furiously. But for the life of you, you wouldn't let him take your dignity.

But the he spoke again.

"Kneel," he ordered.

You stared back at him like he was speaking a foreign language. "Excuse me?"

He leaned forward a hairsbreadth, jaw clenched as he snarled the words into your face once more. "I said _kneel,"_ he growled darkly.

Your nostrils flared in anger as you stared back at him. Fury was rolling off of you so densely you could almost feel it transferring to him. At least the Dark Side was good for something. At least you could be sure that he could sense your hatred and disgust without having to tell him.

"I'd rather die," you spat.

Kylo Ren's gaze was glued to you, and he tilted his head slightly

"Grand Moff Oberon has had his hands full since his promotion. I tasked him with perhaps the most monumental undertaking the Order has achieved ever since I rose to power. Do you know what it is?"

You stared blankly back at Kylo. When things had been good between the two of you, you thought that he was informing you on things. He spoke about his duties, about the Order—or so you thought. Thinking back, you realized that he hadn't told you anything substantial. And you had no idea what he was talking about now. Maybe he hadn't trusted you as much as you'd thought. 

You shook your head.

"The Grand Moff has deployed a Star Destroyer to every system in the Core Worlds. Now, any inhabitant of any planet can look up to the sky and see a number of planet-destroying weapons, protected by a fleet of ships, ready to fire at any time. I believe there are about ten within the range of your little rock—Hapes. I could blow it to dust without lifting a finger."

You were going to puke. Or at least you felt like it, unable to contain the shock and horror on your face. Your stomach roiled, and you felt utterly hopeless to protect your own people. Now matter how badly you wanted to leap forward and throttle Kylo Ren, you realized in the same instant that you were the only thing protecting your people.

And the ice you were standing on couldn't have been any thinner.

You held his gaze as you sank to your knees. You wouldn't look away from him. No matter how badly he wanted you to shy away in embarrassment, you refused. You were scrounging for the rest of your dignity, but there wasn't a chance you would let what little that was left of your pride slip through your fingers.

It was so unfair—so unfair that he could see the fear and pain in your eyes, and you were met with nothing but metal and steel.

You sat there for a few moments, staring up at him until you began to feel confused. You quirked a brow at him, throwing him a small amount of sass—surely just a little wouldn't get you killed. Kylo tilted his head to the side. He was amused.

He said nothing, but lifting one foot, sticking out one of his boots. You leaned away from him as the boot invaded your personal space, landing just an inch from your knees, and looked between it and him several times, not getting the message.

"On your hands," he ordered darkly.

Slowly, cold realization was pooling in your belly, but you couldn't believe it, couldn't even wrap your mind around what you thought he was asking of you. That—no. That was too fucked up. Not even Kylo could humiliate you like that.

"You don't want me to ask again."

You felt your lungs deflate, honestly expecting to pass out. Trembling, you lowered yourself so your palms were flat on the floor, sitting on your hands and knees, giving quite the show for the guards and councilmembers who stood in the chamber behind you. You thought of the Knights watching you from behind, and your cheeks burned, blood pounding in your face, tears prickling your eyes all over again.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't fucking happening.

You stared down, met with the sight of his boot just inches from your face. And you were forced with a decision—did you want to let him humiliate you, or did you want to let him kill you and all of your people?

Your breath rattled, and you were grateful you couldn't meet his gaze in this position. Your face had gone completely scarlet, and you could have sworn you'd begun to sweat profusely, but honestly, you didn't know. Your mind was growing number and number with each passing second.

"Do you really need me to ask, Princess?" Kylo's voice was low and amused and uninviting, sending deep shivers up your spine.

A whimper bubbled up through your throat, and you tried to swallow it down. You couldn't. Your chin was quivering as you leaned your face in closer to his boot, closing the few inches that lied in between.

A tiny, soft sob escaped through your lips as you pressed them to the top of Kylo's boot.

You stayed there for a few moments, not wanting to dissatisfy him, come back up too quickly only to have him make you do it all over again. A tear rolled down your cheek. Trying to steady yourself, you inhaled, only to be met with the overwhelming scent of dark, rich, expensive leather. Something was quelling deep in your gut, pooling urgently inside of you, and you didn't even know what it was. You didn't like this. You _couldn't_ like this. You _hated_ him. The fact that he killed Evander, and was still making you _burn_ was a very undesirable idea.

Finally, you pulled away, sitting back on your knees, feet tucked under your ass, bringing yourself off of your palms so you could look at him again. Staring up at the faceless statue, you saw that somehow, he looked...bigger. He was swelling with pride. You could feel it rolling off of him from within, broadening his entire frame. His fingers looked a little tighter around the armrests. And you could have sworn that the movement of breath within his chest was rising and falling more quickly.

After an ungodly silence, Ren, at last, motioned for you with two fingers to stand. You did, awkwardly scrambling to your feet from your crouched position—on heels no less. Your cheeks burned even brighter. He was milking every last drop of humiliation that he possibly could.

"Can I go now?" you hissed, voice low but shaking with rage, burning with anger.

For another tense, empty moments, he was silent. You were starting to think he wouldn't let you. But after the two of you had burned through those long, heavy seconds, glaring dagger into each others' eyes, Kylo hitched forward just a hairsbreadth so he could hiss the words back at you:

"Be my guest."

Your jaw was quaking, lips curling, your entire face fighting the urge to skew into an expression of twisted rage. You tore yourself away from him, throwing yourself over your shoulder and marching back towards the entrance to the throne room. Your cheeks burned, eyes visibly pooling with tears.

The sea raging inside you didn't bring you any peace. You couldn't even begin to sort through your thoughts. You didn't know if you wanted to spare his life anymore. You didn't know if you wanted to kill him. But perhaps most of all, you didn't want to be in a room alone with him. Because what if you were weak? What if you still couldn't resist him?

What did that say about you?

You thought of Evander. Evander, who could have been spared if you'd given him a proper warning. Evander, who might still be alive if you hadn't been stupid enough to kiss him back.

Swallowing the thought, you let one truth play over and over in your mind, the only truth that could bring you even a sliver of peace.

You'd never hated another human as much as you hated Kylo Ren.


	23. A Jedi's Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Dubcon. Humiliation, degradation, discussions of death/murder. Please think carefully about whether or not reading dubcon smut with heavy amounts of emotional and physical intensity will be triggering for you. Mourning and dubcon are going to overlap here, so please refrain from reading or tap out at any time if it will be too much for you. I just really want to stress this warning because what happens in this chapter is not okay, and should absolutely only exist in a fantasy setting.
> 
> This is also just a relatively sad/dark chapter in general. I promise it will not be like this going forward! So many shenanigans coming up that I'm so excited about. However, please be careful if you're easily affected by grief, etc. If I made you cry today, I get an A+.

Well. Somehow, Palpatine hadn't killed him, which was the shock of the fucking decade.

When Kylo grasped the cold, stony edge of the landing, hurtling himself over the edge and onto the ground, he could feel pain in parts of his body he hadn't even known were there. The deepest crevices ached down to the marrow of his bones.

Grunting, he dragged himself across the floor. He'd heard the explosion. Rock and rubble had kicked up a significant amount of dust. As he gulped down lungfuls of air, he could feel the dry, powdery substance sticking to the walls of his throat, drying out his vocal cords. The chanting had died out, which meant that whatever Rey had done, it had gotten rid of the Loyalists. Palpatine's voice was gone, too, but Kylo didn't feel relieved.

He didn't have the strength to look at Rey from afar, physically or emotionally. The fear that she was gone was knocking incessantly at the insides of his skull, but Kylo couldn't even entertain the possibility. All that mattered was getting to her. All that mattered was reaching her side. His pace was growing faster, his feet weakly kicking out from under him as he struggled to drag himself by his hands.

But as he drew nearer, he realized he didn't sense a lifeforce. An urgent sense of panic drove him to his feet, and he stood, clutching his wounded and battered side, only to collapse beside Rey.

And he was met with the sight of her open, empty eyes.

Fear jolted towards his throat and for a moment, he just sat there on his hands and knees, staring at her, half expecting her to fucking blink. But she didn't. She just lied there. And suddenly, Kylo felt like he was going to be sick.

Gracelessly, he scrambled her up, groaning through the pain that cut off his airway from deep inside his stomach. He managed to sit back, dragging Rey's body across his lap. His fingers trailed her face, thumb grazing her shiny, pale cheekbone. She was still so warm. So close to life. Still salvageable.

A sound escaped his throat, something he didn't recognize, as if somebody else was inside of him, pulling strings and distorting, _deforming_ him from within. But he didn't think about that. He didn't think about anything but Rey as he crushed her against his chest, drawing his arms around her body. How many times had he dreamed of this? How many nights had he spent wondering what it would be like if things had just been...different? If he had someone to come home to? If he had a true home at all--if she wasn't a lost, wandering soul, steadfast in her journey just to be... _alone_? It was a cruel, sick fucking joke. All he'd wanted for so long was to hold her. And this was what they got.

This is where wishes got him. Where they got _her._

He could smell the sweat-stained sweetness of her hair, feel the softness of her tunic under his chin. He twitched, thinking hard. Thinking back suddenly to the Death Star. And instantly, his path became clear.

He grunted softly, shifting under her dead weight to get a better grip around her arms. His muscles screamed with every movement, every inch and crevice of the surface of his skin feeling bruised and battered. But Kylo clenched his teeth, willing his mind to focus. The pain in his muscle and bone and skin was no match for the panic fluttering in his chest. He rested a trembling palm on her belly, and inhaled deeply. Focusing his mind.

Meditation had never been his best ability, but he certainly wasn't a lost cause. More often than not, he was able to clear his mind when it mattered. But he could hear the ripping of TIE fighters and battleships above his head. He tried to block it all out. But there was a war raging above him— _his_ war. He squinted, trying to make out the ships through the thin slits in the ceiling, but the battle looked like it was underwater for some reason. After a few seconds, the tightness in his chest told him that he was staring at the sky through tears.

Sniffing, he tried to refocus. To clear his mind. To center himself and feel the Force within him, to conjure the energy that she had when she'd healed his fatal wound not long ago. To return the favor. 

To return his life.

He _wanted_ to heal her. He was willing to give his own life, to die in her place; No, more than willing. He _welcomed_ it.

He grunted, pressing his hand harder into her stomach. _Why wasn't it working?_ He was a Master of the Force. He had meditated every day for over half his life. And now, when it mattered most, he couldn't silence his mind.

 _Focus_ , he told himself. _Just breathe. Focus._

_It doesn't matter. She's already dead. And you killed her._

_You just have to think. You just have to relax._

_The girl is dead, and it's your doing._

_Breathe, breathe. In, and out. Breathe._

_Why pretend you care about her life? You_

_captured her. You tried to kill her. Why_

_pretend that she matters to you now?_

_I can do this. I have to do this. I have to_

_fucking do this._

_Imagine if you'd never met her._

_Imagine if you'd never corrupted her life._

_Imagine how better off she would have been._

_She'd be alive. You'd be dead. Everyone_

_Would have what they wanted._

_Rey. Rey, please. I need you._

_She was stronger than you'll ever be._

_And now, she's dead._

_The only one who's ever loved you—_

_Ever seen you—_

_Ever believed in who you are--_

_Dead at your hands. Wasted._

" _Why isn't it working?_ " he growled, dropping out of his meditate state and clutching her arms. His Force healing abilities had failed. In the Dark Side, he'd failed. In the Light, he'd come up empty. All that was left beneath was a human—utterly powerless against the void.

" _Rey_!" he bellowed, shaking her violently from the arms. Throwing her onto her back, he knelt at her side, thrusting on her sternum with chest compressions, huffing with each one. He watched the sweat drip from his hair onto her face. She didn't flinch. Only stared back at him—eyes empty and lifeless. Nothing underneath.

" _Fuck_ ," he strained through tears, hearing a soft crack and feeling a subtle pop beneath his fingers. His eyes were suddenly very wet all over again. Crouched ungracefully over her body, he kept working, kept pumping his arms, his lower lip sucking tightly beneath his teeth.

Slowly, a dark realization began to seep into him, curdling his blood and fogging his mind: if he kept going like this, her entire chest cavity would be shattered. And she'd still be dead.

Gradually, his pace began to relent as the fight kicked out of his chest, the hope he'd felt as he crawled out of the pit slipping sadly between his fingers like falling sand. And finally, no matter how badly it anguished him to admit it, he stared into those eyes with the knowledge that she wasn't waking up.

He sat back on his heels and then fell back on his ass, staring at her body with his legs kicked out weakly in front of him, slightly bent at the knees, spine hunched in defeat.

And now more than ever, it felt like the universe was laughing at him.

For a long while, he considered just staying with her. Holding her hand until it went cold. He was so beaten up that he was pretty sure if he let himself fall asleep, he wouldn't wake up. And for a while, he did just stay there, lying by her side, grasping her still-warm fingers within his, letting the tears spill over his cheeks in silence.

But inexplicably, he wasn't falling asleep. And for whatever reason, the war raging above his head wasn't ceasing. After what felt like hours, Kylo slowly turned his head, gazing at Rey, begging the universe to let her be alive when he did.

She wasn't.

He gave her a pyre. After that, he sat with her still, hugging his knees to his chest until the flames died.

When the flames had reduced to embers, he glanced at the ceiling again. Rebel ships were holding. Kylo guessed the Final Order's time was numbered. If his injuries wouldn't kill him, then by the looks of it, the rebels would. Once Rey was nothing but cooled ash and smoke, he boarded the TIE fighter he found on the Death Star.

Life felt surreal as he lowered himself into the seat of his ship, staring blankly ahead of himself and gripping the steering mechanism. After so much pain and sorrow, after screaming himself raw, _begging_ her to wake up, Kylo felt surprisingly empty.

This was where love got him. This was where dreams got him.

And if that was the case, the universe was dead to him.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

"Do you have any final words, Your Highness?"

You'd been staring blankly ahead of yourself, only half-listening to the priest deliver Evander's final rites. You felt guilty for not paying more attention, but you didn't even really feel _alive._ You felt like a half-person, a ghost walking through a dream. How any of this was real, you still couldn't seem to wrap your head around.

Naboo had strict burial traditions. According to their religion, the dead had to be cremated within two days in order to reach the afterlife. The Final Order was so kind to hold onto Evander for _three_ days following his death, so thanks to them, your oldest friend apparently didn't qualify for heaven. You felt extraordinarily guilty; if you'd only fought more, _begged_ them to give Evander a proper funeral...

But you hadn't had any contact with _anyone_ until after those two days were finally up and passed. So now, Evander was being laid to rest in a decrepit mausoleum on the outskirts of Theed filled with old souls who had been just as unlucky, unable to have their bodies burnt in time. No one ever came here, because it was, according to those who lived in Theed, notoriously haunted. You didn't believe in ghosts, but you were grateful to be alone. Even if you thought Evander deserved a sprawling funeral with all his friends and loved ones.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Not for him.

"No," you croaked, utterly shocked by how dry and small your voice sounded. You sniffed, taking a step back. "Thank you for doing this."

The priest gave you a sad smile. You were sure he wasn't used to giving rites for funerals with no attendees. It was a shock that the Final Order had permitted a funeral at all.

And you were the only one that came.

He nodded, snuffing out his incense and heading for the exit, laying a hand on your shoulder as he passed. "I'll give you some time," he breathed. And then, he was gone.

You felt surprisingly steady. Though you figured that feeling numb wasn't exactly something to shoot for. The mausoleum was cold and dark, but not terribly maintained. You knew people didn't like to come here, but there was at the very least a sparse scattering of fresh torches that lined the walls. It smelled of old incense and dust, which was harmless enough.

It was cold, too, but you didn't mind, drawing your dark blue woolen cape over your shoulders as you stared at Evander's grave. It was a stone sarcophagus that stood a few feet high. There were no embellishments or engravements or ornamentation. You knew Evander wouldn't have cared. He _never_ really cared for appearances, always used to make fun of you for having to wear weird traditional headdresses at political events.

But it bothered you. Seeing him buried without even a name on his grave.

You felt tears rising to your eyes all over again, pain and sorrow creeping up over your mind, their inescapable tendrils beginning to snare around you. Suddenly, you wished you just felt numb again. At least you were alone.

But as if on cue, you heard the large stone doors of the mausoleum open. Then, you heard footsteps approaching you from behind.

Your spine straightened like a weapon being aimed.

His voice came from only a few feet behind you. You saw it coming, but it gave you chills nonetheless: "How long can I expect this nonsense to continue?" Ren asked coolly. 

"The mourning, or the ignoring you?" Your voice was crystal clear, and inexplicably, strong.

"Both," he huffed emotionlessly. He always so jagged, so piercing through that helmet. You wanted more than anything than to rip it off him and smash it to the floor.

"You're an insensitive prick," you hissed, hurling around to face him. Only you weren't actually ready to _look_ at him. Seeing him like that, fully robed and masked, cowl pulled low over his helmet, felt akin to being kicked in the stomach. Only _weeks_ ago, you'd been naked in bed together. You'd trailed your fingers over his bare skin. Kissed the tip of his nose, ran your fingers through his hair. You knew there was a person underneath, but now, he looked _so much_ like _nothing_ but a suit of armor, you weren't sure you hadn't imagined everything. "Fuck," you breathed. "You look like the fucking grim reaper."

"An interesting way to greet your Emperor."

"Fuck off," you sneered, turning back to Evander's grave. "You have no idea how fucking disrespectful you're being right now."

"Oh, I do. I just don't care," he said, taking a few steps to place himself by your side. You could have punched him. Miraculously, you didn't.

"You're such an asshole."

"Am I? The way I see it, I'm showing you kindness by allowing him to be buried _at all._ A kindness I'm not so sure you deserve."

"Then why are you doing it?" you hissed, reeling around to face him once again. As soon as your eyes fell back on him, though, you regretted it. You'd meant what you said—dressed up in his full armor, he really did look like death incarnate. Maybe something even worse than death itself. But for some reason, even though you hadn't touched the jewelry he'd laced with dark poison and tricked you into wearing, you could feel the darkness simmering off of him. It was constant. You'd felt it in the throne room and you felt it now, alone with him among the innocent and the dead.

It sickened you, but in a twisted way, you felt more connected to him now than ever, which was such a contradiction in itself. But it wasn't Kylo himself that was drawing you towards him.

It was the darkness that now bonded you.

And it absolutely fucking gutted you.

He was corrupting you. And you felt powerless to stop it. Everything good and decent and innocent in your life, you could feel slipping away, and the more you grasped for it, the more it felt like you were trying to hold onto smoke like a hand.

And it was all Kylo's fault.

He stared at you emptily, emotionlessly, not saying anything. Just _studying_ you. Reveling in the mess he'd made, most likely. Admiring your cracks and frayed edges now that he'd broken you. Rage spurred inside you, and you didn't even have the chance to swallow it down before you were leaping towards him, your fists hammering against his chest.

" _Why are you even here?"_ you growled, spit flying from in between your teeth. " _Say something, you fucking asshole. Why did you come here?"_

Without exerting any effort whatsoever, Kylo caught one of your wrists in a cool, gloved hand, wrenching you upright so you had to lean up on your toes to offset the pain and keep your muscles tensed. The fight went out for a moment, a flame snuffed as you stared into the face of death from mere inches away.

"I've had quite a bit of time to _think,"_ Kylo answered coolly, bending your wrist painfully. "I know now that I was far too easy on you. Trusted you even though you hadn't earned my trust. For the first day or so, I was convinced the best choice was to have you killed for daring to _weaken_ your Emperor."

"Fucking do it then!" you shrieked, throwing your free arm against him, hammering it against his chest as if you'd even make him budge. You didn't, and Kylo caught your other wrist, pinning them both to his chest.

"No," he snarled. "I said I've had time to _think._ "

"That must be new territory for you," you shot back without thinking.

"Careful, Princess," he warned, leaning his face in closer. Met with the sight of the cold steel of his mask so close to you was unpleasant, frightening enough to render you silent at last. You stared into the thin, black slits that covered his eyes, searching desperately for a shred of humanity. You came up empty.

"As I said," he continued. "I thought about having you killed. You distracted me. You were foolish, but so was I. I never should have allowed it. However, I've reframed my thinking on the matter."

"Elaborate. By all means," you spat.

He bent one of your wrists as a warning, and you yelped in pain. But again, you were silent.

"First. If I killed you, your power would be wasted. Your abilities are a tool for the Order. For _me._ The sooner you understand that I will use it however I wish, the easier things will be for you."

An incredulous laugh bubbled from your chest. "Sure. Whatever you say. Anything else?"

"Second," he continued, his voice a low, altered rattle. "I now understand that what I feel for you needn't be a problem. If you understand your place, which, believe me—I will _ensure_ that you do—then there is no reason why I should be denied what I want."

"What you _feel_ for me? What do you mean?" you whimpered. And then, stunned to the point of disbelief: " _Love_?"

As far as you understood, Kylo Ren wasn't capable of loving anyone. But to your shock, he didn't bend your wrist back again. He didn't say anything, but you felt his grip tighten voluntarily. Your heart sank as you stared back at him. He must have felt you deflate and go limp. Suddenly, he released the grip on your arms, and you took a step back.

"This isn't love," you breathed. And then, your teeth clenched, and the words trembled on the way out of your mouth. "This is obsession."

"Why," he growled, surging forward and closing the distance between you. You fought the urge to take several steps away from him. " _Why?_ Because you loved _him?"_

"Whether he meant anything to me in the same way you do doesn't matter, Kylo! He was my _friend._ Since childhood, I cared for him like he was _family_. And that's what you'll never understand—because you can't feel _anything_ for _anyone_ beyond hatred, or lust and desire for control. That's why you'll never be half the man he was before you ended his life. That's why I'll never love _you."_

" _You belong to me,"_ Kylo snarled, lunging forward so suddenly, that you leapt backwards, the backs of your calves pressing against Evander's stone casket. Your chest clenched. "You're my wife. That means you're _mine._ "

"Does it?" you challenged, lifting your brows. "Do you know what I saw that day in my room, when I looked into your mind?"

"You should be very fucking careful right now," Kylo hissed savagely, the texture of his voice reminding you of bolts of lightning.

"I saw the Jedi girl," you continued quickly, words urgently cutting his off. "And I saw _you._ I saw that she was the only person in your life who ever saw you as your own person. She was the only person who had ever made you feel like you weren't living your life in the shadow of either your grandfather or your uncle."

" _Careful-"_

"But don't you see that's exactly what you're doing to me?" you shouted, voice echoing so deeply throughout the tomb that for a moment, you thought you'd awaken the dead. You stood still for a few moments, relieved you didn't. Kylo clenched his hands. "You're using me to fill the void of losing the only woman who wanted you to be _you._ You're not Vader. And you're certainly not Luke Skywalker." You swallowed heavily, considering the possibility that the next words out of your mouth could get you killed. And it wasn't that you didn't care—you just didn't care quite enough. "But I'm certainly not Rey."

At the sound of her name, Kylo surged forward again, but he was already as close as he could come. You froze, blood running cold in your veins as he pressed you against the grave so tightly that suddenly, you remembered that Evander was lying dead inside of it, inches away from you, separated by nothing but a slab of concrete.

Your heart shattered when you saw his reaction of merely her name. But that in itself was enough to prove your point. "I'm not her," you repeated, voice dropping to a rattling whisper. "I never will be. You don't care about me, you don't even _know_ me. You're just desperate to hold onto someone you already lost."

The last thing you saw a flash of black steel and red iron before he grabbed you, spinning you so you faced the sarcophagus. Your hands caught on the cold stone.

"I don't know you?" he growled in your ear, hands wrenching your hips to keep your ass pressed firmly against his crotch. "I ownyou. I _made_ you. You think I don't know what you want? You think I don't know that you've tasted the darkness, and now you can't live without it? I've seen into your mind, felt you from the inside out. You _ache_ for me, you little slut."

His hand slid down your thigh, fingers rough and tenderless. You felt sick, but you knew it wasn't Kylo's touch causing your stomach to roil in your gut. No, you felt sick at the heat pooling between your legs, creeping up your center, warming your belly and your chest, breathing across your thighs. His words should have ignited you with fury, and they did, but they were spurring you on in another way, too. You focused on keeping yourself still and stiff, resisting the instinct to writhe against him. You focused on trying not to want it.

"You're practically trembling trying to resist me," he spat, bringing up a hand to graze down the small of your back. Your entire body quivered, and you found yourself lost and confused at the desire mounting inside of you as you stared down ahead of yourself, eyes met with the sight of Evander's tomb. Against your better judgment, you felt yourself sinking into the comfort of his touch. Even though he had no desire or intention to comfort you.

It was sick. Sick, because you were crushed and _devastated._ Broken—but _he_ was the one who broke you. And yet all you could feel now was the desire for the familiarity of his touch. That, and your sheer inability to resist him.

"Fuck," you breathed. The sound rattled off your tongue. From behind you, you heard Kylo hum lowly as he snaked his hand down the back of your thigh.

"That's it, little Princess. Ease into me. You can't fight it; you know you can't."

In spite of yourself, your knees buckled, and under your breath, you cursed your own name. You tensed your fingers, feeling the pads scrape against the stone. More than anything you felt overcome by all the ways you hated yourself for everything you were feeling.

And before you could even blink away the tears rising to your eyes, Kylo was leaning in close to you from behind, unclasping your cape and throwing it to the ground. Nearly in the same instant, one hand was on your hip and the other was wrestling up your skirts, diving underneath to tease your sex over your panties.

He slid two fingers up your clothed slit, humming in approval in the same instant you whimpered lowly in shame, lowering yourself onto your elbows to burrow your face between your forearms.

"Oh, you _are_ a little slut. Getting this wet for me."

You failed to swallow back another whimper as shame burned hot in your gut, searing you from within. You could practically feel your own wetness seeping through the fabric of your panties and soaking onto his gloves. With every miniscule stroke, you felt your walls loosen and flutter, threatening to spill your shameful arousal all over the Emperor's fingers. And you were completely helpless to stop it.

Your cheeks burned with blood and shame as you sucked your lower lip into your teeth, gnawing on it in a sad attempt to distract yourself from the blissful movements of his fingers. Practically able to hear your pulse in your ears, you began to shake, too. You were coming undone, and far too quickly. He could make you crumble on command.

"Look at you come apart for me," he purred. "You're pathetic. Does my Princess want me to fuck her with my fingers?"

Involuntarily, you found yourself rolling your hips, pushing yourself back onto his hand as hot tears spilled over, searing the round flesh of your cheeks as they rolled down to collect at your jaw.

"No," was the only word that ripped through the jagged alteration of his vocoder, unfeeling and freezing cold. "You're going to admit it for me. I want to hear you say it."

You nuzzled your face deeper against the stone, burning with shame. "Please," you breathed weakly, the sound muffled. The word scorched your throat, your voice and your cunt betraying you. Trembling, you shook your head. Your mind was telling you one thing, your body aching for something else entirely.

But your defiance must have tasted sour on Kylo's tongue. Only seconds of your stubborn silence passed before his hand was clamped around your throat, the other bracing himself on the stone, arm running parallel with yours.

"Say it," he spat, wrenching you upright. "Beg for me like the worthless, helpless little slut you are."

You coughed and sputtered at the strain, eyes prickling with burning tears. You knew that if you said the word, if you told him you didn't want it, there was a good chance he'd leave you. Drop his arms and storm out of the mausoleum, cursing your name with every step. The problem was that you couldn't say it. And deep in the darkest, most shameful crevices of your heart and body and soul, you knew that for whatever reason, you didn't want to.

"Please," you strained through a clenched throat and anxiety-gritted teeth. You were crumbling in more ways than one. Clearly, you couldn't resist him. But was it really so shameful to want to be fucking _held_ after the hellish few days you'd been through? Even if it was by a monster's hands—was it so against your nature to want to be _touched?_ No one had so much as looked at you sideways since Evander's death. You were touch starved and lonely, and if anything, at least his hands were warm.

"Speak up," he spat, fingers crushing your windpipe. "I know you can do better than that. I've heard your little whore mouth before."

Lips quivering, tears streaming down your cheeks, you tried to give Evander a silent, mental apology. But the second your mind flickered towards him, your insides flooded with shame and crashed against the walls of your body.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance. You're standing here because of _me._ You're alive because I allow you to be. Show me a little gratitude."

"Please," you sputtered again, growing more and more desperate with every passing second, with every tightening of Ren's fingers around your throat. "I need you to touch me."

"Wrong answer," he growled, squeezing tighter.

With his fingers this clenched, you could barely speak. Your eyes rolled back, tongue lolling in your mouth. But just barely, you managed, strained and sad, "Kylo. I need you inside me."

He growled again, the sound snarled and unrestrained. But at last, Kylo shoved your skirts up your hips, yanking down your panties. Then, he brought his hand upward, placing a biting spank on your ass with one swift motion. You opened your mouth, but the sound caught in your throat as you felt him stuff one of his fingers inside of you, pumping rapidly.

"You're pathetic," he snarled, slipping in a second finger. "Letting me fuck you on this worthless peasant's grave. And getting so fucking wet for me."

Your cheeks went hot but at the added pressure, your eyes lolled in your head, and despite yourself, you found your hips pushing back against his hand in small, desperate motions, bouncing against his knuckles.

The worst part was that he was right; you could _hear_ your own wetness against Kylo's rough fingers. The leather sloshed through your cum, transferring to the backs of your thighs as he worked sloppily, albeit expertly. 

"When they told me they were giving me a princess, they warned me you'd be a little spitfire. But they didn't tell me you were going to be such a filthy slut."

He added another.

You hummed weakly, feeling him pump you full of three of his large fingers, feeling your walls squeeze and grip him. He was stretching you out. Making sure you'd be ready for his cock. You whimpered at the thought; it was impossible to deny that you wanted it, but it was _wrong. Why_ did you want it? And what did that say about you?

What was _wrong_ with you?

"Fuck," you sputtered, overflowing with fear and shame and desire that they overflowed out of your mouth in a low, breathy groan. You could already feel yourself dangerously close, and Kylo could sense it too, could feel your walls pulsating and fluttering.

"No. You don't get to cum yet. You only get to cum if I _say_ you get to cum."

Suddenly, one of his hands was around your jaw, wrenching your head upright. You arched your back deeply to accommodate the position. He was staring down at you, fingers lifting to your mouth. Wetting your lips, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, drawing him in before he could even say " _suck."_ You wrapped your lips around him and took him down to the knuckles. Spit pooled around his fingers, coating your chin as he pumped himself in and out of you, forcing you to taste yourself. You gargled as they hit dangerously close to the back of your throat. The sound, strained and gagging, elicited a breathy hum from Kylo, who was watching you intently from beneath the mask.

"You little bitch," he spat, pulling his fingers free. A string of spit draped down to your jaw.

His words ignited you, akin to a match striking to life in your heart. Without thinking, you twitched, moving to stand up. But you'd barely budged before his hand was at the small of your back, slamming you back down against the stone. You caught yourself on your palms, the stone scratching unpleasantly against your skin.

"I didn't tell you to fucking move." One of his hands moved to seize a fistful of your hair, holding you in place. From behind you, you could hear the rustling of fabric and the unbuckling of fastenings. You held your breath, staring ahead of yourself, eyes met with nothing but the blank slab of the sarcophagus. You tried not to think of Evander as Kylo began to huff lowly from behind you. 

You darkened with the realization that he was stroking his cock.

He growled and grunted, and warmth flooded your belly, sending jolts of lightning through your limbs. You could feel yourself dripping; Kylo had already opened the floodgates, so to speak.

"You're worthless. Do you understand me?" he demanded, breathing heavily through the words. "You're worthless to me. Only good for taking my cock like the pathetic whore you are."

" _Shit_ ," you whimpered, gripping the stone so hard you could feel it shredding your nails.

"Answer me." A violent tug on your hair. And another realization plunged you into ice; no matter how many times he'd been sweet to you in bed before, whatever _this_ was, it wasn't your bridge back to him. He'd shown you weakness before. In a way, you'd defiled his strength, not that you'd realized it at the time. Now, he had to show you just how strong he was. This was nothing but a desperate bid for control. And you were playing right into his hands.

And now, you couldn't stop. Even if you wanted to.

But you didn't.

"I'm- _fuck-_ I'm a whore for your cock."

He groaned. Under the shuddering of your own breath, you could make out the faint sound of skin against skin. You could hear him jerking his own cock from behind you. And it made you feel like you were going to melt into a fucking puddle at his feet.

"Good," he murmured heartlessly. "And what else are you?"

You trembled and whimpered. His fingers tightened against your hair, an unmistakable warning.

"I'm a bitch," you whispered.

"Loud enough for the dead to hear."

" _I'm a bitch!"_ you sobbed heavily, body wracking against the grave, chest heaving. He released your hair, and you inhaled in relief.

"Correct." Kylo's voice was even and monotone through the effects of the mask. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be letting me _defile_ you on his grave." You heard him spit loudly from behind you, undoubtedly wetting his own cock, or alternatively, cursing Evander's resting place. Likely, both.

"Kylo, please," you mewled pathetically, a hand reaching behind you to grasp blindly at his robes, a silent plea for him to come closer, because you didn't have the stomach to vocalize it.

He huffed again, but you felt him draw himself closer to you. You gasped as you felt the wetness and warmth of his cock press against your entrance, grateful that he couldn't see your shame-filled, tear-streaked face.

Then, a hand against your ass once again, slapping you roughly from behind, the sound loud enough to fill the entire mausoleum, which was pretty much an indication of the pain. You screamed in the same moment that Kylo slammed his length into you.

He shuddered as he pressed his hips to your ass, fully seated inside your tight walls, stretching you somehow more than you were prepared for. Your jaw fell slack and you croaked out a strangled groan, feeling yourself tighten around him. But finally, you felt at least somewhat sated, relieved to be filled once again. You hadn't felt a shred of pleasure in days—be it physical or emotional or otherwise. But really, it had felt like a lifetime.

Kylo was close, keeping himself pressed inside you, unmoving for a few moments. His chest pressed to your back, he brought his mask to the side of your face. You felt the freezing-cold steel against your cheek, the dark lattice of red iron kissing you, prickling you, as if it too was alive.

His lips would have been at the shell of your ear if he wasn't armored. "Treasonous slut," he growled, drawing out of you only to slam back in, pounding against your cervix and blinding you with white-hot pain inexplicably mixed with searing pleasure.

"Fuck! _Kylo,"_ you moaned, pushing your hips back against him as he began to thrust in earnest, ramming against you in swift, forceful motions. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned, the sound resonating from your belly, arching your back to feel him cleave you deeper. His hissed from behind you, fingers leaving welts in your hips. 

And you knew he wanted to make it hurt, which was made fully evident by the sound his hips were making against your ass, his thighs against yours. You groaned, the sound a muddled product of both pain and pleasure and most of all, your sheer inability to stop. Loud smacking filled the hall and pounded in your ears, a reminder of your own shame and Kylo's power over you. Which was exactly how he wanted it.

He pounded hard, deafening you with the sound of skin against skin. You wondered if the guards outside the door could hear. What they would think of you. Your cheeks burned at the thought.

"Fuck," he growled, voice staggering on hitching air as he began to lose his breath, ramming you deep. You could feel him in your belly, striking your cervix with every thrust. You couldn't _imagine_ the bruising you'd have, the cramps that would ravage you the following day. But you didn't care. If he'd have stopped, you would have crumpled into a needy, underfucked, desperate mess, begging him for more.

"That's it," he heaved, fucking you faster, hands still gripping your hips. That same sound. You keened. "This is what you deserve. You deserve to get fucked like a whore. You _treacherous-"_ SLAP " _fucking-"_ SLAP " _bitch,"_ he growled between thrusts.

You burned at the word all over again; he'd never used it before now. And it ignited you.

"Fuck," he hissed, gripping your arms and lovelessly spinning you around. You stumbled in his arms but his grip on you was tight and unrelenting, managing to keep you upright. He stood still for a few seconds, eyes trailing your flushed, unkempt appearance from beneath the helmet. But then, he was seizing your skirts all over again, shoving you backwards until your ass hit the top of the sarcophagus. Involuntarily, you drew your legs around him and he pushed into you again, began to thrust and giving you little to no time to adjust to his unforgiving, rapid pace.

Kylo Ren was mercilessly breaking you open.

You groaned as you felt the Force beginning to work against your clit, throwing your head back, jaw hanging open. Kylo was breathing heavily, releasing his air on something between a growl and a huff, pounding his cock into your pussy. You could still feel yourself stretching; despite how wet he'd gotten you, the sheer thickness of his cock was never easy to take.

The stone was a course grate against the supple skin of your ass, grinding into your flesh, leaving tiny but countless scrapes against you. You groaned and hissed at the sensation, feeling the texture cut you again and again. But there was bliss in your core, a pressure that stuffed you to the brim and the sharp, blinding euphoria as Kylo swirled the Force against your clit.

But the more you stared at him, the more you were flooded with the overwhelming realization that you couldn't do this. When he had you bent over, it was easy. Now that you were face to face, you felt viscerally ill. And _angry._ You could fuck a monster, but you wouldn't fuck a lifeless statue.

"Kylo. Take it off," you spat, trembling, words an overwhelming antithesis from the ugly, scalding tears that had wet your entire cheeks, pooling at your jaw.

"Quiet," he growled, his thrusts rough and steady, slamming deep into your cunt with no affection or regard. He huffed lowly, jerking his hips. "Unless you're not planning on leaving this tomb."

You whined, reaching up to his helmet anyway. He growled audibly, seizing your wrists in either hand, pinning then to your sides. You were met face to face with the monster, your stomach turning in your gut as you stared through the empty, black slits over his eyes. He held your gaze for several tense, heavy moments before he released you, but not before giving each wrist a tight squeeze, bending them painfully until you yelped. Punishment.

"You disobedient little whore," he growled, lifting his own hands to press the buttons on either side of his mask, nonetheless. You watched intently, eyes as parted as your lips as he lifted it from his head. Mesmerized, you admired how his thick, cascading locks flopped gently in place, unraveling to brush against his jaw. Staring at him felt akin to being hypnotized, like his beauty emptied your mind, made you forget everything else. Everything he'd done. Everything he _was_ doing.

"You're lucky I want to taste you," he growled.

He dropped it to the floor, and the sound of metal clanking against stone filled the mausoleum to every corner. He leaned his face towards yours, furious but _hungry._ But you turned away; you didn't want to kiss him. You just couldn't fuck something so lifeless. You were desperate for a reminder of the person beneath the armor, beneath the walls. Now, he was just a man in dark clothing, robes rough and thick underneath your fingertips as you held onto him, using him as an anchor. But your face was turned away in shame, tears still spilling freely down your cheeks. At least now, you could hear his true voice as he growled through his pleasure, feel his breath fan across your cheek . At least you felt like slightly less of a monster.

Though Kylo had agreed to remove his helmet, you knew it wasn't because of you. You took in his face for a few moments from the corner of your eye. You'd never seen his jaw so squared, lips curled in anger, bared slightly to show his teeth, nostrils twitching with rage. And you knew that he was right—if he hadn't been aching to taste your skin, he wouldn't have let you see him without that kriffing helmet. Within seconds, Kylo's lips were diving to your neck. And for a few moments, you were tricked into feeling safe, relaxing under the hungry but gentle swipes of his tongue above your clavicle.

But then, his teeth were sinking into your throat as he bucked his hips into you, eliciting a scream of surprise to tear out of your throat. Kylo groaned in response, breathy and ragged. It muffled against your skin, warming your neck.

His hands were trailing, next, moving to the back of your dress. He unbuttoned it in a halfhearted effort, giving up halfway to wrench the stubborn material down your chest. You groaned, half-delirious from pleasure, from the white-hot pressure at your clit, your straining, tight pussy taking his cock. Your breasts fell free in the same instant you heard the fabric tear.

"Fuck," you mewled, wrapping your legs around his waist but turning your face away. Maybe if you didn't look at him, it would be easier to stomach what you were doing. What you were letting him do to you.

Kylo echoed you, cursing under his breath, and then his face was diving to your chest. You wanted so badly to hate him, but the second you felt his lips close around one of your nipples was the second you were jolted with another violent wave of searing pleasure.

"Fuck!" you cried again, spine going rigid as he began to lick and suck at the peak of your breasts, branding you with wet, scalding kisses. You leaned back to allow him better access, and he moaned into your skin, the sound muffled by your tits. Each kiss became sloppier and less restrained, as did the noises ripping from his throat. He groaned raggedly as kisses turned into licking, dragging his tongue across your tits, squeezing roughly with his hands. Sucking fleshy patches of skin, Kylo was drenching you with his mouth. Every flick of his tongue against one of your nipples felt like lightning in your nerves.

He was leaned over to reach your breasts, back slightly hunched, fingers as merciless and unforgiving as the thrust of his hips. He heaved lungfuls of air against your tits, and he released a sound, something broken, causing you to go rigid. You clenched your throat shut, listening intently to the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the wetness of his mouth, and his unrestrained, desperate breathing.

Finally, he pulled away, and one of your tits popped out between his teeth and bounced back against your chest. He pulled away, lips and chin glistening with his own spit. It was absolutely fucking mesmerizing, and it broke something inside of you to want him so badly.

To, despite everything, _love_ him.

The tears that had finally begun to dry were soon replaced by new streams of wetness as you began to cry all over again. You clenched down your teeth in an effort to muffle the sobs, and that seemed to help marginally.

"Look at me," he growled.

" _No,"_ you spat.

But his fingers were at your jaw in the same instant, wrenching your face towards him. Your eyes fell into the familiar pools of hazel, of soft honey brown tinted with only a hint of moss. Such a gentle color—so much darkness behind them.

His thumb drove upwards into your mouth. You caught it between your teeth and bit down. Hard. Enough to feel the skin puff under your teeth. He withdrew it hastily, howling lewdly before drawing it back and landing a sharp smack to your cheek. Your face shot to the side from the impact, and you moaned. Then, with the same hand, he was yanking back on your hair. He wrenched your head to the ceiling, blinding you with pain.

"Keep your eyes on me," he spat—an order. You strained your eyes to flicker downwards, watching him as he fucked you closer to both of your impending climaxes. You could barely breathe.

"You're a treacherous little bitch, do you understand me?" he strained through his teeth, saliva flecking onto your skin. "You _betrayed_ me."

You were filled with something you didn't recognize, half blinded by your nearing orgasm. But suddenly, there was something beyond the shame of wanting him after everything he'd done. You moaned through tightly-pressed lips, trying to ignore every conflicting emotion that was overcoming you.

Because the truth was, as evil as his actions were, you _had_ betrayed him, even if you hadn't meant to. Even if it had all been a sad, tragic misunderstanding. For you to have gained his trust, even though because of your alignment with the Resistance, you had no _choice_ but to misuse it, was nothing short of a miracle. For him to trust you, even if only in part, was monumental. But you'd shattered it. And there was nothing worse you could have possibly done.

For the first time in days, you considered something deep and terrible—had you... _broken_ Kylo Ren?

Your lower lip trembled as you bucked your hips forward, desperate to cum in spite of it all. Crying freely, your eyes hesitantly flickered up to him. He looked like the _definition_ of unhinged, features twitching in something between rage and pain. You half expected him to start to cry. You _wanted_ him to. At least, then, he might let you comfort him. Try to fix what you'd broken.

But you'd lost that privilege. You could have killed him and it would have been less of a betrayal than the deception. Than kissing somebody else when maybe— _just maybe—_ Kylo Ren had considered letting himself love you.

And even if you'd broken his trust—he'd broken yours, too. And now, how either of you were going to recover, you didn't know.

His hips were relentless, face drawn in anger and pain (but mostly anger) as he slammed himself into you.

"Fuck," you breathed. "Kylo— _you feel so fucking good._ "

Kylo didn't accept the olive branch, lips furling as he spat: " _Shut up,"_ directly into your face.

You whimpered, and felt him pulsate inside of you, throbbing against your walls. The sensation of his cock was the only thing keeping from you from spiraling into a complete depressive episode. You were crying, but at least you had _this._ Once it was over, you knew you were going to spiral like you never had before. But that was better than getting close to him. Better than letting him twist you up inside more than he already had.

He was close. Breath and thrusts more erratic, sweat clinging his hair to his forehead. You moaned, feeling your belly burst with warmth. You were dangling over the edge, sweating profusely, tits bouncing against your chest. The image of desperation, of shamelessness.

"Open your mouth," he growled, squeezing you at the jaw. You obeyed without question, and he wrenched you towards him. You watched as he gathered his saliva on his tongue.

Then, he spat directly into your mouth.

You gasped and moaned, closing your lips.

"Swallow, whore," he hissed.

You did, moaning as you felt his saliva trail down your throat, scorching your insides.

"Fuck," he hissed. " _Fuck,_ I'm gonna fill this tight little cunt with my cum. That's what you want, right, little slut? Want me to pump you full? _Fuck, you're tight."_

"Kylo, I need to cum," you gasped, chest heaving.

"You little bitch. You think you deserve to cum? After the fucking mess you've made? After _everything_ you've done?"

"Please!" you strained, eyes squeezing shut, sending pools of tears streaming down your face all over again. "Please, _I'm sorry,_ I'll do anything, just _please, please let me cum on your cock."_

Kylo hummed breathily, hips snapping against yours, eyes considering, or maybe scrutinizing you. For a second, you thought he wasn't going to let you cum. But this wasn't just about punishment. It was about showing you that he was in control. That no matter what, no one could fuck you like he could. That no one could _own_ you like he could.

It was about showing you that you couldn't live without the way he made you feel.

He was splitting you open, cock audibly splashing through your wetness.

"So pathetic," he sneered. "Cum for me, little whore."

Your eyes clamped shut again, mouth opening as you release a shuddering scream, your orgasm ripping through you the instant Ren allowed it. Your back went straight and somewhere within the hot bliss, you felt his lips at your jaw, hand yanking your hair, growling lowly. You knew you were screaming his name but couldn't hear it; your blood was pounding in your ears, deafening as your climax gripped every inch of you. Sobbing from the sheer magnitude of your pleasure, you felt Kylo release himself just as you began to simmer. He grunted, the sound as gritty and broken as shattered glass as he gave a few final, rough thrusts before spilling his cum inside of you. His hips were still moving, and you felt his seed overflow around his driving cock, rolling down the backs of your thighs.

You felt like a mess. The problem was that you fucking loved it.

Breathing heavily, you kept yourself pinned against him, not even realizing that somewhere, when you were lost in pleasure, you'd clutched onto him and hadn't let go. Your fingers were trembling around his robes, your face and chest damp with sweat. After a few moments, the sensation of his breathing was grounding you back to reality. You rose and fell with the air beneath his chest. Once you could think half-clearly again, you were drawing away, your eyes downcast. Only then did the shame become overwhelming.

Kylo stepped away, and you closed your legs, wincing as he slid out of you, trembling. You tried to rise to your feet but could barely stand, having to grip Evander's resting place to keep your fucked-out, sex-weary legs from giving out beneath you. New tears were falling now, and you felt the urge to kneel at Evander's grave and beg for his forgiveness. With shaking hands, you tried to clasp your dress but remembered that Kylo had ripped it. Covering your exposed tits with one hand, you strained to lean over and gather your cloak, replacing it around your shoulders and drawing it to wrap around your chest.

Steeling yourself, once you were decent, you looked towards Kylo. But he was already staring at you. Perfectly composed, clothing unruffled, helmet back on his head, body steady and steeled. If you had been an outsider, you never would have guessed that he'd just ruthlessly fucked somebody.

Looking at him, it seemed like it never even happened.Whereas _you_ were flushed and sweating and crying and heaving with air, feeling sick with each inhale.

Kylo considered you silently for several seconds. Then, he spoke, his voice infuriatingly steady and emotionless.

"You will either be my wife or my prisoner. I suggest you make your decision carefully."

"That's all I am to you then? One or the other?"

Your eyes were glued to Kylo's face, desperately waiting for him to take back what he was implying. But he didn't. So you kept staring at him, contempt plain on your face, and you somehow managed to speak again.

"Then I'm your wife. But let me make something very clear. Our marriage is nothing but a pact between your people and mine. I've served my purpose to you. You married me, and now Hapes is safe and loyal to the Order. I don't want anything else from you ever again." You fought to keep your voice steady, but it was a losing battle. Your chin was quivering violently. "That means I don't want to see you anymore," you stammered. Your teeth were tightly clenched in an attempt to steady the shaking, so you could barely manage any words at all. Your voice dropped to a whisper. "This," you hissed, gesturing towards the tomb, where he'd just fucked you, "this was the last time. I never want to be alone in a room with you ever again. You have the support of my home planet, but that's it. We're over."

They were maybe the heaviest words you'd ever spoken—because you were _riddled_ with uncertainty. You were mourning what you'd had, or what you _thought_ you'd had. Part of you wanted to try and fix it, but part of you didn't think you ever could. You hated him for what he'd done to Evander, but hated yourself even _more,_ knowing that you _shouldn't_ still want him in the way that you did. And if you saw him again, stood in the same room alone with him, you knew that this would keep happening.

And you couldn't allow that. Not anymore.

You expected him to get angry. To punch a hole through one of the stone tombs. But he only stared down at you, as unreadable and as lifeless as ever. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Hells, he didn't even look like he was breathing. You could have killed him, you were so furious. He wouldn't even dignify you with letting you see his face.

Kylo said nothing, but leaned in a hairsbreadth closer to you, that terrifying mask only inches from your face, cowl pulled low over his head.

"We'll see," he muttered in response, before turning on his heel, cape swishing as he pounded out of the tomb, leaving you with only the dead for company.


	24. Finding it Elsewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BESTIE I’M AFRAID TO SHOW YOU THIS BESTIE I’M AFRAID TO SHOW YOU THIS BESTIE I’M AFRAID TO SHOW YOU THIS BESTIE I’M-
> 
> TW: dubcon (drug and alcohol use w/ implied sex)

On the outskirts of Theed, some remnants of the forest had survived, scatterings of half-burnt bark and sad whisperings of leaves lining the cliffside. Most of the trees had been obliterated during the uprisings, not unlike much of the city, which had since been rebuilt. Even more patches of foliage had been cleared out to build the weapons factory, which was close enough to the palace to settle an unpleasant haze across the royal backdrop, but far enough so you weren’t constantly choking on smoke.

Days had passed since what… _transpired_ in Evander’s tomb. Whether or not the Knights knew about it, you didn’t care to ask. But you still found yourself walking with three of them, combing through what was left of the forest. Technically, you were accompanying them on a security mission. But in all honesty, you didn’t care _what_ they were doing.

Anything to get you out of that palace.

Anything to keep you far, far away from Kylo kriffing Ren.

Because your marriage was nothing but a political alliance, there was really nothing stopping you from packing your bags and moving back to Hapes for all you cared—not that Kylo would let you. But as far as you were concerned, each and every romantic aspect of your relationship was dead and gone, buried under the ground with Evander. Your marriage was a treaty. So neither of you had any personal obligations towards the other.

The only problem was that Kylo couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that concept.

In the tomb, he’d said that you were going to be either his prisoner or his wife. Apparently, he actually wanted you to be both.

All you knew was that you never wanted to see him again. But as much as you tried to convince yourself it was solely because you hated him and could never see yourself forgiving him, there was something else pulling at the back of your mind. You didn’t want a repeat of what happened in the mausoleum.

Because if you were alone with him again, you couldn’t be sure that you’d be able to resist him.

And the thought terrified you.

So you decided it would be best to stay as far away from him as possible. To keep what happened in the tomb from ever happening again.

So, instead of hanging around the palace, you’d elected to follow the Knights around. Regrettably, your upcoming coronation meant that they were as busy as you’d seen them since arriving to Naboo. So naturally, Gil was full of protests.

Once he realized that he couldn’t lock you in your room without your consent (The Emperor hadn’t given you the official status of a prisoner— _yet,)_ he seemed to feel the need to overcompensate with grumbling in protest whenever there was a spare silence. At least with Rharo around, silence wasn’t too terribly common.

“This is stupid,” he murmured, eliciting your eyes to roll into the back of your skull.

“I thought you were over it,” you called, your feet sweeping through the brush of foliage and grazing grass. The central portion of Theed was full of nothing but sandstone and chromium. It was nice to have a break from it all. To see something living for a change.

“I don’t understand why you cant just agree to _stay out of trouble_. We’re doing security sweeps for _your coronation._ Don’t you see the conflict of interest here?”

“Oh, come on, Gil. Let’s not pretend this whole thing,” Rharo grumbled, gesturing around the forest, “isn’t just one big kriffing waste of our time. No offense, Princess. Your safety is paramount and all, but we’ve already combed through every kriffing blade of grass in all of Theed. If there were any threats, we would have found them by now. Not saying I don’t enjoy your presence, but…”

“I don’t care whether or not it’s necessary,” you told them, a little too quickly. “It’s not like I had anything else to do. So why not tag along?”

“Because you’d rather be here than in the palace where Master might find you?”

Your eyes darted to Varlo, who usually elected to ignore you. He was trailing behind you, Gil, and Rharo, thwacking nearby bushes with his scythe as he passed, slicing them like melons. Quiet, but listening intently. Striking whenever he found a weakness in the conversation, apparently.

“I like you better when you’re giving me the silent treatment,” you muttered, eliciting a rumbling chuckle from Rharo.

"It's dangerous for her to be here," Gil pressed.

"It's not. Look,” Rharo sighed, whacking a low-hanging branch that stood in his path, sending a small family birds squawking, erupting from the tangle of leaves and limb to shoot skyward. “We all know Gil’s the world’s worst babysitter. But it’s fine. Between the added guards and the raids, I don’t think Naboo is going to be crawling with threats."

“Raids?” Your ears perked.

“…Yeah,” Rharo mumbled, dragging his gaze away from you to look at the green, but otherwise sparse blanket of trees that splotched the sky above your heads. Anywhere but your eyes. He cleared his throat, rubbing his beard. Though Varlo was _never_ seen without his mask, and Gil only was in private, Rharo had one hand on his war club, the other cupping his helmet at his hip as he strutted leisurely through the thinning forest. Another clear of his throat before he spoke. “After the attacks, the Grand Moff thought it would be best for the households in Theed to be…investigated. Master Ren agreed.”

Your eyes felt dizzy in your head. Confusion washed over you, and then evaporated, like a boiling pot of water poured over a hot pan. Sucking your lips between your teeth, you mulled over what this meant, no matter how syrupy Rharo’s explanation was. The Order had sent ‘troopers to “investigate” households in Theed. Which meant they’d most likely broken into citizen’s homes, roughed some people up to send a message, and dragged away anyone even remotely suspicious to throw them into a cell. Suddenly, something on your tongue tasted very, very sour.

And then, you looked around, and saw that each Knight’s head was trained on you—even Varlo’s. And you were hardly masking the disgust that had threaded its way onto your face.

“The attack was a threat to the Emperor’s life. To _your_ life,” Rharo pointed out, quirking a brow as if to say, _what else was he supposed to do?_

You cleared your throat, too, and wiped your hands (which suddenly felt very sweaty) on the fronts of your trousers, heels of your palms digging into your thighs.

“For someone who claims to want to avoid a riot at all cost, Ren has a fucking funny way of showing it,” you grumbled.

You knew that whatever Kylo Ren had ordered, the Knights hadn’t been a part of it. They’d been on Mustafar at the time, clearing out the cultists. Not many people were talking to you these days, but Gil, Rharo, Kuna, and Maxir had filled you in on all the details—all the ones you could stomach to listen to, at least. Though you had to admit, you didn’t have much sympathy for the lives of Darth Vader loyalists, hearing _in detail_ about how your _friends_ had to gut every last cultist on the planet left a mountainous pit in your stomach and a wad of cotton in your mouth. It was just another day at work for them. And now, with blood on their hands and fury in their veins, they were taking a stroll through the forest with you, talking about your husband and all the drama that had occurred while they were away. You may as well have been sitting down for brunch with three of the most bloodthirsty men in the Order.

There was a heavy silence for a few moments. Then, Gil’s voice.

“Do you miss him?”

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” Your pulse skyrocketed. “ _Fuck_ no, I don’t miss him.”

“You know you’ll have to see him at the coronation tomorrow.”

“Yeah, no shit, I’ll have to, like, hold his fucking hand too, but that doesn’t mean I have to speak with him.”

“You sound stressed about this,” Rharo offered.

You clenched your hands. Why were you getting so defensive? You ruminated on your own mounting annoyance for a split-second before your fists were curling into balls at your sides. “I’m not _stressed,_ I just don’t ever want to see my husband again for as long as he lives, and if he shows his face for a split-second longer than necessary, I’ll wring his neck like a hot towel.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Gil said loudly.

“Why?” you asked, head whipping towards your guard, not referring to anything in particular, just running with the momentum of your mounting adrenaline. Kylo’s name had prickled your heart in a way you didn’t like, but you couldn’t even think about how uneasy that felt. All you could think about was _him._ “Is he still considering locking me up? Has he said anything?”

Gil and Rharo exchanged looks.

“ _What?”_ you pressed, daring him to try your patience.

“He hasn’t really been doing much of anything other than training with Finor. Poor fucker’s bandaged from head to toe.”

“Seems like a shitty job,” you noted. “Signing up to be A Knight of Ren, and getting assigned to be his personal punching bag instead.”

“A punching bag doesn’t get to punch back.”

Your fingers trailed a leaf as you passed a low-hanging branch, eyes drifting over it in an attempt to appear as nonchalant and indifferent as humanly possible. “And how is the Emperor?”

“There it is.”

You whirled around to face Varlo, fists trembling at your sides. “ _Don’t.”_

“I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist talking about him all day,” Rharo muttered, chuckling as he tucked his massive arms over his chest, club and helmet pressing against his sides. “You owe me ten credits.”

“Oh, shit,” Gil muttered, rifling through the slim bag at hung around his hip. You stared, slack-jawed, as he ponied up, handing over a handful of coins to Rharo, who shoved them under his coat.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked, cocking your hip. “You guys took bets on…on _what_ exactly, may I ask?”

Something rustled in the bushes at the other end of the clearing. You didn’t notice.

“Oh. On how long you could go without asking about Master.”

Exasperated, you looked between Gil and Rharo several times. Then, your eyes trained onto Varlo, a few feet behind you, who suddenly seemed to find a nearby bush very interesting.

“Hey,” you snapped, and he finally pried his gaze away to fall onto you instead. “Did you know about this?”

Varlo shrugged. You seethed in response.

"You guys brought him up first!" you sputtered.

"I mean, you're the one who asked how he was doing," Gil said.

" _Unbelievable!"_

“Don’t take it personally. We were on Mustafar for like, a _week._ Don’t sue us for trying to have a little fun.”

“My _personal life_ isn’t supposed to be _fun_ for you guys!” you raged, throwing up your hands, unable to understand why the hell you had to explain this to them. A twig snapped in the nearby distance, though none of you had moved. 

“Princess-”

“You’re all a bunch of fucking assholes.”

“ _Princess_ -”

“You know what? I’m actually _glad_ you guys got a laugh out of my marriage. At least _someone_ is having fun, right? Because _I_ sure as hell-”

A gloved hand slid over your lips, and suddenly, your words were silenced. Muffled protests reverberated against Varlo’s fingers, and you gawked at Gil and Rharo, who were staring over your shoulder, eyes trained on the patch of forest behind you. You didn’t know where the hell Varlo had come from—in between the trees to your right, most likely. Brain thudding with confusion, wondering blindly what in the _fuck_ was going on, your questions were silenced as Varlo whirled you around in his arms.

And your heart splattered to the forest floor.

Whatever the fuck was grazing just a few yards away from you, on the opposite edge of the clearing, you’d never seen anything like it. 

It was brown with a spiked mane, as large as any monster from your nightmares, but perhaps its most prominent features were the unsettlingly long talons that speared the dirt as it pawed restlessly, or the row of bared fangs sharpened like little spears. Underneath the setting sun, they almost _gleamed,_ even from a distance. You wondered if you would be able to see your reflection in them as it opened its mouth to engulf your head.

Varlo was shuffling backwards, walking you with him. Simultaneously, Gil and Rharo were moving forward, crouched into low, defensive stances, weapons raised. Rharo pulled his helmet back on just as Varlo seated you at the side of a tree, lunging forward to join his brothers in arms.

“That’s a fucking narglatch,” Gil cursed. “They’re not supposed to be on this side of Naboo.”

“Gil,” Rharo breathed, narrowing eyes trained on the creature, war club twirling between his fingers. “Get Princess out of here.”

“No. This’ll take all three of us. I’ve seen a _cub_ tear a fully-grown clodhopper in half _._ ”

Your stomached roiled with nausea as the beast’s paw tilled the ground once more, dust flying up to form a cloud of death around its four muscled legs. It crouched low, sizing up its enemies. Glancing towards your Knights, you tried to sate your fear. They were among the most feared warriors in the galaxy, the triumph and power of the Order resting on their shoulders. Each of them were armed, and they were _always_ hungry. They could do this. They _had_ to. 

Because ever since you had attacked Kylo with a lightsaber, you’d been forbidden to carry a weapon of any kind.

You were completely unarmed.

And the only thing standing between you and the beast were the three Knights raising their weapons as it approached.

Gil’s chin twitched over his shoulder as he ducked low, slowly and steadily falling into formation with Varlo and Rharo, the three of them trying their best to encircle the narglatch within their carbon and steel bodies. “Princess,” he hissed so lowly that you could barely hear. “Run.”

Your muscles twitched in preparation to stand, to _flee,_ but your entire body froze and clenched in mid-motion. “Varlo." You gritted out the words between clenched teeth in hopes of keeping yourself from being sick. “ _Behind you.”_

Varlo barely had time to turn around before a second and third narglatch sprung from the darkness. One of them leapt, pinning him towards the ground in a single, swift motion. Your heart stalled in your chest as Rharo went in for the kill, setting upon the first creature, hands gripping the base of his club and swinging it upwards just as the narglatch snapped its teeth in his direction.

The beast howled as the weapon collided with its jaw. A spray of blood splattered down on Gil. He looked like a demon caught in the rain as he set upon the third creature, leaping into the air and striking his scythe against its throat. It too howled and whimpered, blood pouring from the wound as it began to cower, nestling into the ground.

You stared in awe as Gil rounded on it. The creature’s face wasn’t visible to you from your vantage point, shielded by Gil’s legs. But from behind, you saw the Knight strike his blade. Heard the choked, high-pitched whimper of an animal in pain.

You exhaled in relief, letting the image of Gil standing in triumph over the defeated creature bring you some relief. Rharo was still standing, dodging snaps of the third creature’s teeth. Your heart was racing, and then you remembered— _Varlo._

Launching yourself from the tree that he’d placed you on, you ran until you found another to hide behind to get a better image on Varlo. He’d managed to keep a grip on his scythe, but was still struggling under the beast's weight, staving off its mouth. But he was still alive. For how long, you could only wonder.

Rharo drew his blaster. In the same instant, the largest narglatch pounced, seizing the Knight’s forearm between its large, dripping teeth. You choked on a scream as Rharo was tackled to the ground, the only thing between the narglatch’s fangs and Rharo’s throat a mere forearm bound in thick leather. Varlo was still pinned to the ground as well, forcing the handle of his scythe further up his attacker’s jaw. The narglatch snapped and snarled, saliva and foam drenching Varlo’s helmeted face. And Gil stood in the middle of it all, forced to choose.

Your eyes fell upon the blaster. It had been knocked from Rharo’s grip and landed only a few feet away from him. But if you could reach it, it could be the difference between life or death for one of the Knights.

Not giving yourself enough time to talk yourself out of it, you were running in the same instant your eyes had fallen upon the discarded weapon. Pumping your arms and not daring to look anywhere but your target as you made a break for it, the narglatch that attacked you came out of left-field—literally.

It hit you in the side, and for a few moments you were blinded with the wind knocked out of you. When you opened your eyes, all you saw was a flashing of gnashing teeth and Gil on the creature’s back, the rod of his scythe wrenching the beast’s neck upwards. Your breath left you when its bite managed to make it within inches of your neck. Gasping, you blindly felt around for the blaster. But with each furious pat of your hand against the ground, all you felt was the tickle of grass.

“ _Princess,”_ Gil grunted, tugging back on the narglatch’s neck. _“Run.”_

And then, from somewhere behind you, shielded by the mass of fur and rows of fangs, Rharo’s voice pierced the air: _“Leave me, Varlo! Help her!”_

A scream from behind you, and the sound of shredding. Panic launched into your throat with the realization that someone had been clawed. Your body pooled with dread as you tried to shimmy it out from under the narglatch’s weight. You didn’t know what had happened for sure, but it seemed like Varlo had heeded Rharo’s order. Suddenly, the creature was moving off of you, enough for you to escape. Panting and shaking, you threw yourself to your feet.

The second creature had Varlo pinned to the floor once again. The other was rounding on Gil. Rharo was lying unconscious or dead in the grass. Your eyes trained on Gil. The beast in front of him crouched. Something inside of you leapt to your throat. Almost involuntarily, you raised your arm.

The familiar thudding of the Force tremored in your ears, thumping between the sides of your skull like a loud pulse. In all honesty, you couldn’t have said exactly how you’d done it. Because the only thing you were thinking of as the narglatch went rigid, spine straightening, twitching, was _Gil_. And the fury that flooded you at the thought of losing him, too.

You sensed the confusion in Gil, undoubtedly wondering why the narglatch hadn’t killed him yet. Why it was standing there, frozen. And then his eyes fell on _you._ But you weren’t looking at him. You were looking at the beast. The beast who had dared to try and kill your Knights.

Your lips twitched in anger. You had lost Evander. In another way, you’d lost your husband. _Enough._

The narglatch’s neck snapped with a small twitch of your head. Gil stared, dumbfounded, as it fell to the side, dead. He stood there, exhilarated, speechless, for only a few moments. In the next instant, he was on the move again, running towards his comrades. But the last living narglatch was already cowering, sinking backwards between the confines of the trees before turning, fleeing into the depths of the forest.

He withdrew a knife from his belt, and threw it. It pierced the back of the fleeing creature's skull, and it, too, fell.

Dead.

You crumpled to your knees, breath giving out just as easily as your legs. Your palms found the grass, and you closed your eyes, trying to steady the dizziness clouding your head and let the feathery texture ground you to the solid world around you. But the remnants of the Force were still drumming persistently in your mind, dying off slowly, the vibrations making you nauseous.

At least, _something_ was making you nauseous. Perhaps it was the fact that you had just wielded the Dark Side for the first time in your life that lined your stomach like sour acid.

You had acted on your fear. And beyond that, on your _anger._ You didn’t just want to protect Gil; you’d wanted to destroy whatever was audacious enough to attack him.

You’d wanted it to suffer.

Head spinning, you only halfway-listened as three sets of sprinting footsteps stopped at your side. Suddenly, the Knights were sinking to their knees, hands on your arms, your face, checking you for damages.

All of them were panting. All of them were injured, most likely. But when they spoke, they sounded _happy._

“Princess!” Gil breathed, lifting your face between his palms. You were too dizzy to be sure if your eyes were opened, and his words sounded like they were coming from underneath a body of water. “ _You did it!_ That was _amazing!”_

“A hell of a lot better than lifting marbles.” Rharo. _Rharo. He was alive._ You could barely open your eyes, let alone see anything other than double-vision, but it was Rharo’s voice that soothed into your ear. You fell against his chest as you tried to sit up straighter, head spinning.

There was so much kindness in his voice. And you were so grateful that they were alive. But all you could say was, “Rharo, I’m going to throw up on you.”

“What?”

You turned your head just in time to be sick, splattering the ground with your breakfast. Thank the gods you hadn’t had much of an appetite since Kylo had killed Evander; there wasn’t a big mess. Your vision steadied as you opened your eyes. Mostly water and stomach acid. But all-in-all, not as humiliating as it could have been.

Wiping your mouth, you turned back around, collapsing onto your ass. Gil was back in front of you like nothing had even happened. In fact, you were pretty sure that his hands had never left you. You realized Rharo was touching you too, his hand in your hair. Had he…had he _held your hair back while you threw up?_

Your heart twinged for all three of them, gaze falling back into Gil’s. His thumb stroked your cheekbone. "Better?"

"Fuck." You shuddered. "I think so."

“Master’s definitely gonna kill me for this. But it was worth it.” His eyes gleamed, and you managed a shaky laugh. “You were unbelievable. I’m so proud of you.”

He drew you into a hug. You trembled against him, and one of the others was rubbing your back. When Gil pulled away, he outstretched a hand, pulling you to your feet. The earth felt steadier than expected underneath you. Your mind was clearing with every passing second.

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“I knew you had it in you. Every time you said ‘ _the force isn’t awake inside of me_ ,’ blah, blah blah,” Rharo said, giving an admittedly amusing imitation of your voice. You couldn’t help but grin. He shrugged his shoulders, smug and satisfied, eyes gleaming as he stared at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “And thus, the Force fucking awakens.”

Shoulder to shoulder, the three of you started back towards the castle. They sure as hell weren’t going to finish their security sweeps until you were safely returned to Theed Palace. And suddenly, you had little to no desire to join them anymore. You wanted a hot bath and soothing meal and a _bed._

They nudged your shoulders, offering their praises, offering their shock and surprise. You knew it was a big milestone for you. For weeks, you weren’t able to move even a tiny scattering of marbles. But the thing was, Kylo wasn’t training you in the ways of the Dark Side—not yet. He’d wanted you to start with the basics, thought you needed to try to use the Force without the influence of emotion first.

Funny how as soon as you acted upon your anger, you could snap the neck of a beast who dwarfed even Rharo.

You smiled until they trained their eyes on the path ahead as you headed back towards the castle, until you finally felt like none of them were staring at you anymore. Then, you let the frown form on your face as you were flooded with a dread you couldn’t quiet.

A part of your heart was very full—full of gratitude and emotion, warmed by the devotion of the Knights. But a part of it was doused in shadow. In dread and fear.

You knew you hadn’t had a choice.

But it didn’t change the fact that you were now a user of the Dark Side of the Force.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

You heard the commotion on the other side of the refresher door before you could even cover your nude chest—Kylo pounding into your bedroom, each footstep louder than the last. Within seconds, the refresher door was wrenched open. Your arms flew to cover your wet, naked breasts, and you curled your knees into your body beneath the bathtub water.

Even masked, you could tell that Kylo was staring intently at you, engulfing your body with his non-gaze. It was strong enough for you to practically feel it crawling on your skin, burrowing into your pores and nestling in your blood. For a moment, your breath stalled in your throat, and the deepest parts of you secretly wished you could see those deep, hazel eyes instead of the obsidion gash that covered them. But then you exhaled, lifting your chin, resolute in your determination to hate him.

“I told you that we’re over. So it would be customary for you to knock.”

Something simmered off of Kylo, his fists clenching. Then, he slammed the door shut behind him, which was in all honestly a smart move; Gil was guarding your bedroom. You were sure he wouldn’t want to be a part of whatever was about to happen.

“I’m growing tired of your childish games. Do you not realize that you could have been killed?”

“Better that than stuck here with you.”

Kylo twitched forward, a choke of air falling between his lips, as if he intended to speak. Then, it seemed he realized he didn’t know what to say, jamming his finger towards you and breathing heavily, frustrated, lost. He lowered his hand but his chest heaved with air, body just slightly hinged at the hips. Furious. Unhinged. Impatient. His helmet lowered a hairsbreadth.

“Now is not the time to test my patience. I ask so little of you. Grant you freedoms that I’m not even convinced you deserve. And yet with each day that passes, you prove to be more foolish than you were the day before. _Why can’t you just stay put_?”

"You should be _thanking_ me. I'm the only reason the others are still alive."

"Inconsequential. You endangered yourself."

“Whether I’m in the castle or not, there’s going to be danger wherever I go.”

“Exactly.” He surged, taking another step forward. Your brow furrowed as you stared at him, trying to rifle through all of the complex, nearly indiscernible waves of energy rolling off of him, each mysterious inflection of his voice, every emotion that betrayed his veneer of strength. The word had almost cracked on the way out. He’d nearly shouted it, but he didn’t seem like he was acting on pure anger. It seemed more like urgency.

If you knew better, you might have said that it even seemed like _fear._

“You have no idea of the growing dangers in Theed. The mounting unrest within the city. If you were smart, you would stay in your room where my guards could watch you at all times. Better yet, you'd stay in _mine_."

You hadn’t heard anything about _growing unrest._ What the hell was he talking about? And if he actually cared about your safety, wouldn’t he have warned you before?

“Don’t act like you care if I live or die, Kylo,” you snapped, lowering to your eyes to the water, where you skimmed your finger absentmindedly over the surface, trying and failing to ignore him.

“I think I’ve made it perfectly clear that I care about your safety. However much of a fool I may be for it.”

Your gaze lifted, anger flickering behind your cold eyes. Kylo had a demented way of showing you how much he cared for you: killing every man he thought was a threat to your romance, striving to keep you locked up like a prize, stripping away your freedoms, one by one. You glared at him, hoping you could penetrate him with your hatred, hoping he could feel your disgust the same way he could feel the strike of a lightsaber blade.

And then a horrible idea crossed your mind.

You leaned back against the edge of the tub, opening your arms to rest on the sides, your breasts fully exposed and glistening beneath the water. You parted your legs slightly, one of them bent higher than the other. And all the while, your gaze never left his.

He was silent for several seconds, mask not-so-subtly aimed at your tits. You cocked your head to the side and smirked. Turns out, you were kind of a fan of his agony.

Kylo snarled, his patience snapping like a twig. “How long can I expect this to continue?” he growled.

“How long can you expect _what_ to continue?”

“Your foolish and reckless behavior. Your insistence on my misery.” If he hadn’t sounded so fucking angry, you probably would have felt bad for him. But he was nothing but a furious child.

“I would suggest getting used to it,” you lilted. “It’s the least you deserve.”

Before you could blink, Kylo was suddenly pounding towards you. You saw his fist fly to your face and clamped your eyes shut in a sad attempt to brace yourself for whatever was coming. The next thing you felt were his fingers clenching around your throat as he lifted you from the tub. Water sloshed angrily at your thighs as he lifted you to your feet, your nudeness fully exposed to him.

Naked, flushed, and dripping, you struggled in his grip, but with each pull of your body, he only tightened his fingers. Releasing a strangled grunt, you smacked and pounded at his wrists. As usual, it didn’t dissuade him.

“Stop struggling,” he hummed, tilting his head to get a good look at your nude body. You could feel droplets of water dripping down your skin, licking you breasts, your stomach, your hips, your legs. “I know you like this.”

You wrenched again, not daring to admit how much you loved the feeling of Kylo’s fingers crushing your neck. You had no intention to get away.

“Stop,” he repeated lowly, taking one of your hands in his and forcing it against the obvious bulge in his pants. He was unmistakably hard, twitching angrily against your palm. Involuntarily, you rubbed your fingers over the fabric of his pants, momentarily forgetting how to breathe.

You hadn’t slept with him in days, which was a long time for the two of you to go. And if you were only counting the times it had actually been romantic, then it had been _weeks._ At the realization, you found yourself wondering if he’d touched himself at night, if he’d missed you, _ached_ for you, rubbed his cock raw trying to fill the void of his empty bed. You wondered how many times he’d made himself cum on his own hand by thinking of you.

You met his eyes (or rather, met the slit in his mask,) glaring daggers into his soul. You felt the walls of your cunt flutter.

“I’ll scream.”

Kylo exhaled on something you couldn’t explain. A _laugh?_ You couldn’t imagine him smiling, but something obscure was emanating from the presence behind the helmet. Amusement.

“Who’s going to save you?” he breathed. “Gil? If anything, he’ll want to join.”

“Don’t _touch_ me!”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself tremble beneath his grip. For a split-second, you thought you were going to give in. You always did.

It was the memory of what happened in the forest that drew you out of his spell.

The way you’d snapped that monster’s neck without so much as lifting a finger. The way, for a moment, it had excited you. You wanted Kylo Ren. There was no denying it.

But you needed to hate him. You _had_ to. Otherwise, there was no telling what kind of monster he’d turn you into. Just like there’d be no telling how many of your friends he would kill.

Mustering all of the strength (emotional and physical) that dredged in your body, you pulled up your hands and shoved hard against his chest.

Stunned by your defiance, by your unwillingness to give into him (which was _very_ new territory for you,) Kylo dropped you. You grunted as you hit the water, ankle bending unpleasantly beneath your body, one leg folded unnaturally under your ass. Shocked, your chest heaved, water rising around you like angry waves from the commotion of your weight dropping into the tub so forcefully. Your lips parted and you stared at Kylo, who loomed above the tub, clenching his fists at his sides, back heaving with furious breath.

For a moment, your heart stalled as you nervously pondered the probability of Kylo refusing to take no for an answer. You stared at him carefully, gripping the edges of the tub.

Kylo raised his arm, sweeping it furiously over the countertop of the wash basin, sending vials of oil and bottles of cosmetics crashing to the side. He grunted loudly, clattering them against the wall. Your heart startled at the sound of glass shattering and you jolted visibly, bringing your knees to your chest.

But he wasn’t done.

Your jaw dropped as he brought his fist to meet the mirror, punching a fractured hole through the center of the glass. Splintered webs of broken lattice shot outwards from his hand, extending to the edges of the frame. You were shocked that the whole thing didn’t come off the wall altogether. Kylo stared into it, heaving in fury. Suddenly, he looked pretty similar to the beast who’d almost killed you in the forest.

And you could have sworn that even beneath the mask, his eyes met yours in the reflection of the broken mirror.

He stood in silence for several heavy moments, catching his breath, swallowing his rage. You held his gaze for every empty, tense second, finding yourself having to catch your breath too.

Finally, he spun around, thrusting a finger towards your face.

“You know that one way or another, I will have what I want. And if you refuse to give it to me, I have no grievances finding it elsewhere.”

Your jaw dropped, fear flooding from your body, replaced by incredulous rage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Are we together or _aren’t we?_ ” he growled.

A furious laugh stuttered from your chest. You supposed he had a point. You had made it clear that your marriage was nothing more than an alliance. But you hadn’t considered that he would want to _fuck_ someone else.

He wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t _dare._

“I hope you _do_ fuck somebody else. In fact, I’d thank her _personally_ for getting you off my ass. Maybe send her a fruit basket.”

More silence. Even heavier than the last. It left you feeling numb.

He clenched his fists, then pointed his finger at you again, as if he intended to speak.

He didn’t.

Instead, he swept from the room, growling under his breath, slamming the door so forcefully behind him that you heard it splinter against the hinges.

You’d stood up to him. You’d let him know— _really_ know—that it was over. That the two of you were free to do whatever the hell you wanted.

Then why did you feel so fucking sick?

Face drawn in an angry grimace, you waited for Kylo’s footsteps to die away, waited until you heard your bedroom door slam shut before settling back against the edge of the tub. You tried to let the warm water soothe you, but Kylo had wasted plenty of your time with his little outburst, and the temperature was already going cold. Grumbling in annoyance, you reached for the soap and loofa, scrubbing angrily at your chest and arms.

You moved to stand, planning on washing your legs, forgetting how your ankle had screamed in defiance when Kylo had dropped you back into the tub. The second you put your weight on your right foot, you cried out. Dull pain tingled up your calf.

Fucking idiot had made you sprain your ankle.

“Fuck!” you hissed, palms slapping the sides of the tub, seething.

And then, your second horrible idea of the evening.

Your eyes flashed to the door. Somewhere, Gil stood on the other side of it. Tonguing the front of your teeth, you clambered awkwardly to try and stand again, letting your ankle whine in pain again, jolting you with ripples of discomfort that were, in all honesty, nothing more than a nuisance.

Crying out, you toppled to the side, clutching the edge of the tub to your chest as you fell. You made a big show of it, the water sloshing furiously, lapping over the side of the tub to splash onto the floor. “Gil!” you screamed dramatically. “Help me!”

The Knight burst in without knocking, his hand at the blaster sheathed at his belt. Your gaze immediately lifted to swallow his, and you took him in as he took _you_ in, not bothering to hide the wickedness that danced in your irises.

His eyes were wide and he was breathing hard, like he expected to find an intruder who’d climbed in through the window. It would hardly be the first time. Slowly, he pulled his neck back, letting his gaze wash over your body.

He stared into your eyes like his gaze was holding on by a thread. Like he was having to muster every ounce of strength he had not to drop it lower, lower…

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I fell.”

His eyes twitched. “Princess,” he warned. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you answered swiftly.

Gil sighed, then looked over his shoulder, as if he expected to find Kylo standing behind him, weapon raised, ready to murder his Knight for even _daring_ to look at his future Empress naked. When Gil looked back to you, his eyes were still overflowing with hesitation.

“Princess-”

“I’m _not,”_ you urged, raising your brows, as if daring him to question you. “Kylo pushed me, and I hurt my foot.”

You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek. Sure, you’d put on the theatrics for him, but it wasn’t like it was fully a lie. Kylo _had_ made you twist your ankle, after all. 

He twitched forward, staggering in place, as if unsure whether or not he should move. You kept your gaze locked on his, brows slightly lifted, anticipating his next move.

“I can’t stand,” you tried again when he didn’t make it.

Slowly, Gil exhaled, and you noticed how it shuddered in the air. “Fine,” he muttered.

Swallowing satisfyingly, you lifted your chin as he lowered his hand from his blaster, taking a few steps forward, painstakingly careful not to look anywhere but your eyes.

“I need you to help me,” you told him.

Sighing again, this time on more of a grunt, Gil lowered himself into a squat, turning his head to the opposite wall. You bit the insides of your cheek to keep from smirking.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

You nodded and hummed slightly, doing as he instructed, locking your forearms around him.

“One, two, three,” he muttered, standing slowly and taking you with him. His eyes still glued to the wall, he lifted you gently, your body firmly pressed against his. The wetness on your skin drenched his entire front, tits pressing into his chest. He may have been layered but you weren’t; you _knew_ he could feel you molding against him.

When you were standing, you didn’t let go. You watched him intently, watched as he swallowed thickly, what his throat tense and bob. If he didn’t know what you were trying to do before, he sure as hell did now.

And it wasn’t as if you were really trying to fuck him. You didn’t want Kylo to _kill him_ after all.

But anything you could do to test the waters, _anything_ you could do to get under Kylo’s skin…

Keeping your head down just wasn’t in your nature.

Slowly, Gil turned his gaze to look at you. Your face was flushed, a gentle blush of rose scattering your nose and cheeks. Falling droplets of water framed your visage. You pulled him closer.

His lips fell open, tongue flickering out to wet them.

“Princess,” he warned again, softer this time. “Are you alright?”

_I thought you’d never ask._

Swallowing another smirk, you took a step back, dropping your arms from his neck and holding onto his bicep for support, squeezing lightly. You could practically _hear_ Gil’s heart dropping to his ass as you put space between your bodies, exposing yourself fully. Glancing down at your ankle, you rolled it slightly. It still stung, but you _knew_ you could make it to your bed.

If you wanted to.

If only you wanted to.

Smirking, you glanced back up at him.

“I don’t think I can walk.”

Gil took a step back too, and your eyes finally moved to take in _his_ body. Just as you suspected, he was _drenched_ with water, practically doused from head to toe.

“Well, let’s, um…” He cleared his throat once. Then again. “Get you out of the tub."

His hands found your waist. Yours found his shoulders. Gil guided you gently from the bathtub, letting you take your time. But this time, his eyes didn’t leave yours. Straining him with your weight, you maneuvered over the porcelain edge. Both feet found the ground and you kept most of your weight on the uninjured leg.

He nodded curtly, turning his back to you, reaching for a towel, and thrusting it in your direction.

“I still can’t walk-”

“Just put it on,” he hissed over his shoulder, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

A part of you felt slightly overwhelmed by the way he’d raised his voice. But knowing that you were driving him over the edge…something warm and satisfying nestled deep inside your chest. Smirking to yourself, you began to pat yourself dry, then wrapped the towel around your chest, tucking in one corner to keep it in place.

“Okay, I’m decent,” you teased. “Happy now?”

Gil turned around slowly, but didn’t answer. You couldn’t read his eyes as he took gradual steps forward, hooking one arm around your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you into his arms. Then, he walked you back into your bedroom without a word.

Sitting you gently on the bed, his hand lingered at your thigh, as if to make sure you were truly alright. Then he turned to your wardrobe, returning with a lightweight nightdress.

“I think you should wait until I leave the room,” he said, nodding towards the garment. "To change."

A corner of your mouth twitched upwards.

“If you insist.”

He held your gaze for a few more tense moments. Then, he was gone, turning swiftly over his shoulder and disappearing into the hallway.

A part of you felt bad as you stood up, testing your weight on your injured ankle. It really wasn’t that bad.

But the guilt didn’t linger.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Kylo wasn’t used to milling about without his highly recognizable armor and helmet.

Ducking into the last building along the alleyway deep in the lowest sector of Theed, he was at least comforted by the fact that none of these peasants would recognize him without them. While he occasionally went helmet-less in the presence of officials and guards, mere citizens would only be able to identify him as the masked demon they’d come to fear. None of them would give a second thought to his face.

He fucking hated Theed, but leaving his identity back in the palace took the edge off. An inconspicuous shuttle had taken him towards the outskirts of the city, where unsavory souls could sin in peace. This way, no one would care who he was or what he intended to do. Because everyone came to a place like _this_ for the same reason.

The merchandise.

He hadn’t been to a brothel since his days on the Steadfast, which felt like eons away. All around him, women (and even some men) were dancing on patrons, their chairs and tables packing the darkened, smoky, overly-perfumed hall.

Kylo placed himself in front of the counter near the entrance. Kriff, this was awkward. He may as well have been strolling up to a farmer's market. He kept his brown hood drawn low to obscure his features. Even though they weren’t recognizable, he elected to keep his eyes glued to the countertop.

Whoever the hostess was, she seemed like a bitch--a Twi'lek women absentmindedly sorting credits into a wooden box, evidently more focused on her earnings than her customers.

“Seat yourself and a dancer will be with you shortly,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes.

He tapped his fingers impatiently against the counter. “I don’t intend to sit here among these degenerates,” he replied curtly. “You’ll fetch me a private room.”

The woman cocked a brow, finally eyeing him with a heavy bout of skepticism. A brothel on _this_ side of town likely didn’t see many rich patrons. Kylo guessed that their private rooms were only booked once in blue moon. But he preferred it that way. He didn’t want some stuffy, prim and proper whore. 

The girls in a place like this would be _filthy_.

“That don’t come cheap,” she confirmed.

“I think I can handle it.”

Tossing in a few more coins, the pimp barely looked at him, throwing one of her head tails absentmindedly over her shoulder. “And what kind of merchandise are we shopping for?” she asked nonchalantly.

Kylo tapped his thumb a few times against the counter, lost in thought. Instantly, his mind was flooded with images of _you,_ and he began to list off your features as vaguely as he could. Human, first of all. The color and texture of your hair, the stunning hue of your skin, the shape of the curves and peaks that made up the frame of your body—the very shape he could no longer live without. After he’d listed his demands, he placed a handful of credits onto the counter—the going rate for this type of unsavory transaction.

The Madam eyed them, sliding the coins into her palm and counting them, muttering with each one. “That’s a tall order,” she murmured. “We only have one girl matching your description, and she’s our best. She’ll pull a hefty price.”

Snarling under his breath, he shoved his hand underneath his clock once again and gracelessly hurled tripple the amount of credits onto the countertop. They clattered violently against the wood, some of them scattering to the floor. For the first time, the Madam startled, leaping backwards.

And for the first time, Kylo’s eyes flickered upwards, coldly swallowing her gaze.

“I’ll tip her well if she’s half as good as you say she is. Now, if you’re done wasting my time...”

“At once,” she breathed, scooping up the coins like she’d never seen that amount of money from a single patron in her _life._ And something told Kylo she hadn’t. She ushered him back behind the counter and into a dark hallway, leading him to the very last room and ducking inside.

“A drink while you wait, sir?” she asked as he lowered himself into the moth-eaten purple loveseat against the back wall.

He held her gaze as he stretched out his legs, hood drawn to his brow, framing his threatening eyes. “I won’t be waiting long.”

Her eyes went wide and she nodded curtly, throwing herself from the room and bustling down the hall.

When the door shut, Kylo finally let himself relax—as much as a man like Kylo could. Thumbing his thighs, he settled against the back of the couch, finally taking a look around the room. It was pretty much a shithole. The hardwood floors were busted, and a few dusty paintings of nude women in various compromising positions lined the scuffed walls. His lip curled at the sight. He definitely didn’t want to be here a second longer than necessary.

But fuck, his cock was already straining at his pants. For _days,_ he’d had to touch himself just to stave off his growing torment. He felt like a kriffing teenager again, needing to jack off every time Princess’s face so much as crossed his mind, which was pretty much a fucking constant. He’d already released himself once that day, and it _wasn’t enough. Still,_ it wasn’t enough. He nearly bared his teeth at the thought, cursing her memory, her name, her infuriatingly beautiful body and her haunting face. She was going to kill him. One way or another…

His cock twitched in his pants. He leaned forward in his seat, examining the room again, desperate to distract himself. He would show her. He’d show just how little power she had over the Emperor of the galaxy. She needed to know. She needed to understand. She-

The door opened. Kylo’s head whipped towards the entrance. And then a woman stepped in, balancing a pewter tray.

And true to the barkeep’s word, she looked like his Princess.

His heart stalled. Down to the shape of her body, the color of her hair, the hue of her skin…Of course, she wasn’t nearly as beautiful. Didn’t even hold a candle. She was a sad knockoff, but fuck, it was _something._ If he didn’t look at her too closely, he might even be able to fool himself. He inhaled slowly, chest expanding with air. She smirked, lowering the tray to a nearby end table, never once dropping his gaze as she moved.

“Welcome, sir,” she breathed.

He grumbled internally. Her voice—just _no._ It was all wrong. Syrupy and sappy, like she was trying to put on a show. Princess _never_ tried so hard. Didn't have to. Kylo had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m no one,” he said quickly. _Stop talking,_ he swallowed down.

She knelt low, taking a brave peek beneath his hood. Her customer wasn't smiling.

"You have a very interesting face."

"So I've been told."

“They told me you’re a very generous customer.” She lowered herself to her knees, batting her false eyelashes, hands running up Kylo’s thighs. If his cock could have screamed, it would have. It was the only touch he’d felt other than his own in _days._ “So I promise to take care of you. Come on. Tell me your name, handsome” she urged, smiling far too sweetly as her hands moved towards his hips.

His hand seized her wrist. She stopped mid-motion. When she looked back up at him, her eyes were positively flooded with fear.

And then, he finally _did_ say it. “Stop talking.”

She exhaled slowly, settling back on her feet, looking at him curiously. “You know what?” she asked, rubbing his calf gently. “I think you need to relax. It’s perfectly normal to be nervous,” she said, leaning over to the tray and picking up an item in each hand.

Once of them was a glass filled halfway with clear liquid. Kylo didn’t know what the fuck it was, but when she handed it out to him, he snatched it from her grip and threw it back, letting it burn on the way down. He hissed through his teeth. Needed to fucking numb himself. Because with every moment he had to stare at this cheap imitation of his Princess, his _Empress,_ he felt _sick._

“I’m not nervous,” he grunted, throat burning.

“Of course,” she said, fumbling with the other item. Kylo felt his brow furrow as she watched her turn it over in her hands.

She dumped a pale, powdery substance onto her knuckles, and Kylo was flooded with realization in a single, heavy moment.

Alderaanian snuff.

Kriffing hell. He hadn’t used _that_ for what felt like ages. Since long before he met Princess. Long before he’d even met Rey. His stomach turned, a strange antithesis to his heart, which lurched with excitement. Desperation. His eyes flickered to the woman, who sat up on her knees, gingerly lifting the hand to his face.

He caught her wrist again. She gasped softly. So softly, so _nervously,_ that for a split second, she almost sounded like…

Kylo’s eyes caught hers, and they narrowed, as if sizing her up. As if wondering whether or not he was going to descend down the path in front of him. It looked like she was wondering too, staring back with wide, nervous eyes.

The stillness passed. His fingers tightened around his wrist, he brought her hand to his nose, closing one nostril and inhaling deeply with the other. It burned on the way in, but his mind was instantaneously overcome with a strange, cooling sensation. One that he’d almost forgotten, but now that he felt it again, it was as if he was being yanked back through time. He exhaled slowly. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was a start.

The shame was burning just as brightly as his nasal passages. He looked away, rubbing his nose, staring blankly at the wall, waiting for the effects to kick in. Waiting for his misery to pass.

Her voice came from what felt like a mile away. “Is that better?”

He turned back to the her. Lifted his chin. Swallowed his shame.

“Take off your clothes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY WERE ON A BREAK


	25. Long Live the Empress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER NOTES: REPEAT AFTER ME. TRISS WILL RESOLVE THE ANGST EVENTUALLY. WE ARE ALL GOING TO HAVE FUN AND ENJOY THE RIDE WHILE WE GET THERE. IT WILL BE OK. TRISS WILL RESOLVE THE ANGST EVENTUALLY. WE ARE ALL GOING TO HAVE FUN AND ENJOY THE RIDE WHILE WE GET THERE. IT WILL BE OK. TRISS WILL-
> 
> BABY'S CORONATION!!
> 
> Georges Hobeika/ Fall 2017 Couture
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/59/e5/25/59e525a6e6c72cd349c02b75e76c981b.jpg

"Ow."

"Sorry."

Jama, one of your handmaidens, was making violent work of tightening your corset. Yes— _corset._ You _never_ wore corsets back home; Hapes fashion was light and airy, leaving little to the imagination. But Naboo fashion was on another level—particularly for royals. Not that the Order adhered to much of Naboo's traditions. But apparently Jama and Sara had served some of Naboo's past queens. And it wasn't as if Sith Troopers knew how to doll you up for a coronation.

 _Your_ coronation.

The day of your coronation had finally come.

You were about to be crowned as Kylo Ren's Empress.

You stared out your window, watching all manners of strange, winged creatures native to Naboo sweep down from the sky, perching on your balcony. The doors were still locked, and you weren't permitted to be alone. You weren't even permitted to be outside by yourself _;_ it seemed Kylo wanted to avoid a repeat of what happened with Evander just as much as you did. It sounded cliché, to wish you were one of those birds so you could rocket yourself skyward and never come back. But it was the truth.

Flying away from your problems sounded pretty appealing right about now.

First, there was the problem of the Resistance, who you worked for. And of course you were secretly spying on your husband, who was the _second_ problem, because you were in love with him, but you also _hated_ him. Then third, there was Organa, who had turned your entire mission on its head, instead instructing you to escape _with_ your husband who you were initially supposed to kill. Fourth, there was the crushing guilt of getting Evander murdered. Fifth, you had wielded the Dark Side of the Force without meaning to, and it had been _far_ too easy. Sixth, you were about to become the Empress of the very Order you were fighting you take down from the inside...

You sighed; you could go on and on if you wanted, but it was too depressing to think about, and it was hardly helping your nerves.

"There," Jama said, finishing the clasps on your dress and taking a step back. She stood next to Sara, each of them eyeing you for the smallest flaws or forgotten details.

You turned to your full-length mirror, feeling your breath leave your body as you moved your eyes to your reflection.

It was the first time you'd worn red since coming to the Order, and it sort of felt like a betrayal to the Resistance, to the Light. It was a deep burgundy, the color of dried blood, a similar hue to Kylo's lightsaber, but not as bright. Still, it made you feel connected to him, which was a very unwelcome feeling. The entire frame of the dress clung to your curves, but a long, draping cape billowed from your waist. Jewels of all shapes and sizes lined your décolletage, framing your chest and encircling your neck. You'd elected to throw the jewelry Kylo had gifted you into a drawer and hadn't even touched them since everything had happened. At least the jewels you wore _now_ weren't Sarrassion Iron.

As for your makeup...well, they'd seemed to pay homage to Naboo once again, with a nod in favor of the Dark Side. Two small black circles laid on your cheeks, your upper lip painted black, lower lip pierced with a small, vertical dark line. You stared at your own reflection for quite some time, half-surprised that when you blinked, it blinked back at you.

"Well," you breathed, turning back to your handmaidens. "I certainly look like an Empress."

"There's something else..." Sara muttered sheepishly, opening the drawer to your vanity and fishing for...

The ring.

Your heart dropped when she pulled out the glistening, red stone. You stared at it the same way you'd stared at the narglatch that had tried to rip you from limb from limb in the forest just the previous day. Then you looked at her.

"No," you told her bluntly. "I'm not putting that thing on."

"The Emperor insisted," she muttered nervously, casting her eyes down.

_Of course he did._

You exhaled through your nose, hot air fanning your pursed lips. "Fine," you agreed. But _only_ because Jama and Sara didn't deserve to be punished for _your_ anger at having to put the damned thing on.

She handed over the ring carefully, and you shoved it onto your finger. You should have known he'd make you wear it. After you attacked him, he probably just wanted everybody to think that your marriage was alive and well, since it was a representation of the Order's strength and influence over the Inner Rim, and by extension, the rest of the galaxy.

"Is that all?"

"No," Jama answered. "There's one more thing. A gift from the Emperor, Your Highness."

You cocked a brow. "I hope you're joking."

"Sadly not, my Lady. With your permission?" she asked, gesturing to a black, velvet box that rested on the vanity. You hadn't even noticed it when they'd been doing your makeup; you'd been too caught up in your own thoughts, your nerves getting the better of you. She reached for the box and opened the lid.

Your eyes fell on a delicate black circlet with small silver chains looping from a center stone.

"Onyx," Jama explained when you hesitated. Apparently she'd been warned of Kylo's attempts to influence you with jewelry in the past.

Your initial hesitation passed, and you nodded at her. Even if it was disguised as a gift, you knew that you didn't actually have a choice in wearing it. "Go ahead," you murmured.

Jama affixed the circlet on top of your head, adjusting it until it was even and centered, the largest onyx jewel resting in the middle of your brow. She took a step back, giving you a final once-over.

"You look beautiful, Your Highness." Soon to be _Your Majesty._ Your heart surged at the thought.

Clearing your throat, you gave each of them a grateful nod and a tight smile. It was the best you could manage with the nerves that were wracking your body.

"Well. Let's get this over with."

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

There hadn't been an event like this in the throne room since your wedding reception. Now, as you stood in the vestibule just shy of the grand staircase that would lead you to your own coronation, you felt yourself riddled with nerves. And you were _easily_ far more nervous to be coronated than you were to get married.

Because back then, everything had seemed so simple. Now, your life was a nightmare.

And the weird thing was you felt _pressured._ Pressured to make a good impression. To be a good Empress. Even though the point of all of this was to help take down the Final Order.

You sighed, smoothing your dress so you had something to do with your hands.

You were officially the worst spy the galaxy had ever seen.

"Are you ready, Your Highness?"

Your stomach flipped as Jana approached you. It would be the last time you heard that title.

Taking a sobering breath and choking on your own spit, you gave her a nod that was curt only in an attempt to suppress your shakiness.

"I'm ready," you breathed.

Sara and Jama flanked you, their veils drawn low as they escorted you up the grand staircase and into the throne room. The Final Order wasn't one for ceremonies in any way other than to assert their strength. Back home in Hapes, your coronation would have boasted trumpeters and priests and singers.

Now you only had your handmaidens. And you were grateful for even them. They were perhaps the last living remnants of the old ways of Naboo.

 _This_ couldn't have been more different from what would have happened had you been ruling Hapes instead. The least Kylo could have done was pay homage to your home planet. But everything was as sterile and as cold as ever. And strangely enough, you felt cold, too. Wrapped in silks and heavy jewels that made your legs ache to support the weight of your dress, you felt like a lavish jewel yourself. An inanimate display of the Order's prestige and power, tied up with a proverbial bow.

The hall was dark. Curtains drawn. You kept your gaze down as you entered the throne room, catching rows and rows of Imperial Guardsmen from the corner of your vision. Dozens of them lined your path to the platform that housed the thrones. _Your_ throne.

Slowly, you rose your gaze. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and it only began to batter more violently as you took in Kylo Ren— _Emperor_ Kylo Ren. And if the gravity of what was about to happen hadn't settled on your shoulders yet, it _certainly_ did now.

Everyone was silent and still as stone as you strode straight down the center of the chamber. With every step, the throne grew larger in your vision. Gravity felt heavier. You sensed the people around you, but only just. Your eyes were glued to Kylo.

He was seated on his throne, legs spread as they always were when he was sitting at the head of the royal chambers. The platform was flanked with Imperial Guardsmen and Sith Troopers with their weapons at the ready. It was nice that for a change, they weren't pointed in your direction.

You half expected your heart to give out when you reached the base of the platform. By some miracle, you were still alive and conscious when you found yourself at the feet of Kylo Ren, lifting your chin to look up at him, defiance and strength displayed unmistakably on your features.

He motioned with two fingers for you to approach—just as he said he would when he'd shown you how your coronation would go. 

You just hadn't expected it all to feel so cold and lifeless.

Inhaling deeply, you tried to let your breath inflate you with confidence as you started up the steps.

"Kneel before your Emperor," he told you, before you'd reached his level. Before you could stand above your leader.

Your breath hitched. And for a few moments, no matter how brief they were, you felt your anger for him dissipate. You could only focus on the pulse hammering in your ears as you did as he said, kneeling before him.

Ready to become the Empress.

For a moment, everything was still. It was as if not even a soul in the entire throne room so much as took a breath. You closed your eyes, trying to stay present.

To feel your last moments as a princess as you were living them.

"Today marks the end of the remnants of the Republic," Kylo's voice was echoing through the chamber, the effects of his vocoder making you shudder. "With this act of authority, the Final Order recognizes a new day. A day in which the Inner Rim bows to the fierce power of our regime. A day in which your Emperor reigns supreme, and a new ruler rises to rule at his side. Let this be a reminder to the Inner Rim. To all those who may still support the treachery of the Republic. To any who many defy the will of your leader."

Your eyes opened, gaze lifting so you could meet his eyes through the veneer of his mask. Your heart stopped. You didn't care that you couldn't see the familiar mossy-brown of his irises. You knew he was seeing you. You could _feel_ that he was staring back at you, swallowing you whole with his unreachable gaze.

"Rise for your subjects," he said evenly. "And take your rightful seat on the throne."

You stood. And you turned to the crowd.

"From this day forward," called Kylo's voice once again, addressing them. "You will know her as the Empress of the Final Order. You will live to carry out her wishes just like you will be prepared to die for them."

Searching the crowd for a familiar face, your breath stalled when you found the Knights. You swallowed heavily as you sank down onto your throne, at Kylo's side.

"Kneel for your Empress," Kylo demanded, voice cold and piercing, enough to send a chill up your spine. You gripped the armrests.

Your eyes stayed glued on the Knights, on the only thing you could grasp that felt familiar and comforting, as the officials that filled the chamber began to kneel for you. For _you._ You tried to keep your breathing even, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

You knew it was all a lie. Your loyalties lied with the Resistance, not with the Order. Weeks ago, you would have even said they lied with _Kylo._

But even so, there was a strange swelling in your chest.

You didn't want the Order. You couldn't.

But if you did...it was yours.

_Long live the Empress._

The party was held in the throne room as well—not that the Final Order could throw a party if it tried. While servants prepared drinks for governors to enjoy in one of the nearby rotundas, it allowed all of the officials in attendance to approach your throne and offer you their loyalties.

It felt strange—just sitting there next to Kylo as governor after governor, Moff after Moff knelt below the platform, feet below where you sat, pledging their undying loyalty. You'd been warned that though you were an Empress, you were a representation of the Order itself. Consequently, it was necessary that you adhere to its appearance. So, for the most part, you held your tongue and tried to look imposing.

Not to mention most of these men would be desperate to sniff out any weakness in you they possibly could. You'd already shown them that you were defiant, even if to a fault.

During the ceremony, the Knights had been huddled near the far wall. You were relieved after greeting at least twenty governors, to see your friends approaching the thrones to speak to you as their Empress—for the first time.

You couldn't hide the smile that crept onto the corners of your mouth as you watched them approach. You hadn't smiled all night—you and Kylo hadn't even spoken, after all.

All six of them stood in the most terrifying cluster of men you'd ever seen, yet the energy exuding from each of them was more than enough to make you feel at ease. Strange how six of the most menacing men you'd ever known had become one of your few sources of comfort.

Gil stepped forward first, lowering himself to one knee and drawing his weapon to press its base into the ground. He looked to Kylo for permission. From your peripheral, you saw the dark shadow seated next to you nod curtly in response. You lifted your chin as Gil spoke.

"I place my life in your hands, Your Majesty. I live to serve you, and I will die to fulfill my duty, if that is what's required of me."

A strange choking sensation constricted your throat. Suddenly, your eyes felt somewhat wet as you watched all the other Knights, one by one, sink to a knee and bow their heads. Echoes of "Your Majesty" rolled off each one of them—even Varlo, who you were pretty sure didn't like you very much. Even Finor, who didn't really know you at all. Your heart somehow felt both light and heavy inside your chest, fluttering faintly on the underside of your ribcage.

"Thank you," you replied softly, clipping the words so they wouldn't be able to detect the emotion swelling in your voice. You swallowed heavily, feeling the need to say something more. Conflict rose in your chest, but you suppressed it thoroughly—these people were supposed to be the enemy. If you'd done a good job of remembering your place within the Resistance, you wouldn't have felt conflicted at all.

If you'd remembered your place within the Resistance, maybe you would have let Gil, Rharo, and Varlo die.

But you didn't.

For better or for worse—the Knights were all you had.

"I...I just want to say, to _each_ of you-"

-But suddenly, your words were cut off. Because Kylo was standing.

The man shot to his feet, the most movement you'd seen from him all evening. Honestly, it was sort of nice to have a reminder that he wasn't a statue.

But the relief quickly dissipated.

"Gil. Finor," he clipped sharply, swooping down the staircase. "With me."

Gil and Finor didn't miss a beat before falling in line behind their master.

Your heard crumpled as you watched all three of them go. You didn't know Finor well, but Gil was perhaps your closest friend. Kylo was your _husband._

Fists clenching at your sides, you tried to stoke the fire bubbling in your gut, fury coming in hot, molten spurts. Kylo Ren should be giving you his full support on a day like today. But instead, he was taking not only himself--but your closest friend and bodyguard--from your side. Another sick display of his power. Another reminder that no matter how close you grew to the Knights, they would always answer to _him_ first.

Inflating with a deep breath, you stood. Suddenly, it felt like every eye in the room was on you. You started down the platform, landing in front of the remaining Knights.

"Looks like your bodyguard's gone," Rharo murmured into your ear. You turned to him, and he gave you a wink, something malevolent sparkling in his eyes. "Guess that means you're stuck with me."

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Though the Final Order was hardly known for its ability to participate in festivities, there were officials present from Coruscant, Bespin, Corellia, and more. And at least _they_ knew how to liven up a room. Men in Final Order uniforms stood looking awkward and cold with drinks stuffed into their white-knuckled hands, hugging the walls, as governors and traders socialized heartily.

A strange part of you wanted these men to fear you, so it felt strange when they would approach you, though only a handful of them were bold enough to brave the Knights.

Kuna brought you a flute of champagne as you schmoozed with politicians who wanted to, yet again, wish you their best and emphasize their loyalties. You tried not to appear overly friendly; you didn't want them to think you were weak. But you also wanted them to like you more than they liked your husband, so you put on the charm, making them feel honored that you were entertaining their presence.

All the while, the Knights were circling the room, half enjoying the festivities but half keeping their eyes out for potential threats. One of them was always standing close to you, but your immediate security was rather lax, giving that the entire room and palace were locked down, every last corner flanked by 'Troopers.

Unfortunately, it did allow one rather unwelcome guest to approach you.

"Your Majesty."

You turned, and instantly, your stomach soured. Grand Moff Oberon. You averted your gaze, electing to look out into the crowd instead of at his face. It felt too unpleasant to stare at a man who you knew hated you so much. It was no secret from the clips you'd heard from Kylo—the man was practically hell-bent on your failure. And while you may have had everyone else in the Order fooled, Oberon was the one person who you were wary of blowing your cover.

You didn't speak. You were the kriffing Empress now, and you were his superior. You didn't have to speak to anyone you didn't want to.

Oberon cleared his throat. "I wished to offer my congratulations. This is certainly a...historic day for the Order."

"I should think so," you replied, lifting your chin. "A woman on the throne of an Empire. It feels overdue if you ask me."

"Might I also add that I...regret what has transpired over the past few weeks."

You inhaled, trying to steady yourself. When Kylo Ren had made you kneel (and kiss his kriffing boot) Oberon had been present, just like everyone else in the Order. And if you remembered correctly, he had told Kylo you were a "threat" to his rule.

When you didn't speak, Oberon continued. "I hope you know that the diligent tactics of security that you've endured only serve to ensure the Emperor's safety."

"Of course."

"Perhaps I should make that more clear," he said, his voice syrupy sweet. Suddenly tasting something foul on the back of your tongue, you turned, looking up at him. His cold eyes were on the crowd, pale smile tight on his lips. "Everything I do," he replied. "Is for the good of the Order. And I will stop at nothing to protect the Empire we have built. No measure of preservation is too great. _None._ Perhaps you will keep that in mind the next time you raise a weapon to your Emperor."

"Are you threatening me, Moff Oberon?" you asked, voice icy and sharp. It surprised even yourself, the words slicing through the air, practically leaving an echo.

This time, Oberon turned to look at you. His gaze came from above, swooping downwards to land within yours. His handsome face was perfectly calm, perfectly composed. It was eerie--the way he could dole out threats with such a pleasant expression.

"Not if I'm wrong about you."

With that, Oberon's cape was swishing against your ankles, and he was gone.

You stood there for several moments, breathing heavily, a million thoughts bouncing off your skull. You noticed your heart was beating rapidly. As the fog in your mind began to settle, you took a steadying breath. And the rest of the room came flooding back to you.

From somewhere beside you: _"Your Majesty."_

You barely registered it, still trying to get your bearings.

But again: "Your Majesty."

You jolted from your thoughts, finally turning to the man who stood beside you.

Well, you were pleasantly surprised, you had to admit.

He was handsome and young. Unmasked, which was a welcome change. Blonde hair, a kind smile, a clean blue suit. He looked more suited to be on Coruscant or Canto Bight. In all honesty, you had no idea who he was, but it was nice to speak with someone who didn't look like they had a blaster up their-

"Your Majesty," he repeated once more, bowing from the hips, lowering his gaze until he was standing upright again. "Aldomar Breneg. I was hoping to have the honor of congratulating you on this monumental achievement. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have witnessed such history in the making."

"Thank you," you offered with a sweet smile. "You'll have to forgive me," you laughed breathily, honestly not having a single clue who this man was. "Do you know the Emperor?"

"I'm here representing my father, a weapons trader from Canto Bight. He was instrumental in the development of the TIE Dagger. He and my mother send their best."

"They certainly did," you lilted, dragging your eyes down his body and back up before you could stop yourself.

Kriff—three glasses of champagne had certainly gone to your head. Aldomar smiled at you, and you watched as his cheeks flushed a violent pink. Smirking to yourself, you decided that you were allowed to have at least a _little_ bit of fun. Even if getting caught would likely mean the death of your new friend Aldomar.

He engaged you in conversation for quite some time. You learned that his father was a bit of a celebrity, an aristocrat who lived on Canto Bight. Before the war, he'd allegedly built weapons for both the Resistance and the First Order. Now that the Final Order was in power, he had devoted his efforts solely to Kylo Ren. Whether he did so willingly, you didn't ask.

You were delighted to be speaking to someone...well, someone so _normal._ Your only friends were cold-blooded killers, and you loved them dearly. But it did get pretty exhausting, and at times, pretty dark. Aldomar reminded you of the people you used to meet back home. Boring and conventional and rich and stuffy. But boring felt comforting.

Your conversation went on until there was a ripple of change in the room--a wordless, soundless breath of fear that wisped into the walls of the hall.

Silence fell over the throne room like a thick, dark fog, beginning near the grand staircase and rippling until there was nothing but a heavy layer of quiet and unease. Mid-conversation, the words you'd been saying died on your tongue, and you turned to look towards the entrance to the throne room.

Emperor Kylo Ren had returned.

With the two Knights on his heels, he strutted silently into the room, leaving fear in his wake. His fists were clenched as he walked. In a heartbeat, you saw how his gaze settled on _you,_ and the handsome weapons builder at your side. With narrowed eyes, you watched as he approached the Grand Moff, which only served to make you more uneasy.

Something was off. You could sense it. Your mind shot back to the conversation you'd had with Oberon. Was that why Kylo appeared so tense? So angry? Were they plotting something together? Even though you couldn't see his face, even though he was a room away, you could _tell_ that something was wrong. From the way he held his muscles, not to mention the way he'd disappeared without a word...and what was he speaking to the Grand Moff about?

Ignoring Aldomar as he tried to rope you back into whatever you'd been talking about, your eyes remained centered on Kylo. And then, as if he could feel your gaze the same way he could feel the brush of your fingers, he turned. And he looked at you too.

You felt his mind burst open as you invaded. The Force pummeled the sides of your skull, drummed between your ears as you drove in, breaching Kylo Ren's thoughts.

Eyes narrowing further, you knew he could sense what you were doing. The unmistakable sound of the Force was likely battering around in his mind too, gripping his body and rooting him to the spot. But in a room full of important officials, he was powerless to stop it.

That, or he was entranced.

You took a deep breath. You saw something, _sensed_ something. Guilt. Shame. _Rage._ You sensed a barrier; he was trying to block you out. Trying to actively keep you from seeing something.

Something twitched inside your heart and you pushed further, his apprehension only driving you to focus harder, more aggressively. 

Leia herself had told you that you were clearly a gifted telepathic.

And Kylo Ren was about to find out just how good you were.

Staring at him with a fiery intensity in your eyes, you dove in.

_You saw Kylo first. Hazy in the throngs of your vision. He was robed, staring downward at something. You let your mind open, let it clear, allowing yourself better access to the image before you._

_The next thing you realized was how heavily he was breathing. You followed his gaze downward—and that was where you found her._

_The woman._

_The fully naked woman positioned on all fours, her bare ass in the air. Meeting Kylo's thrusts._

_Kylo grunted, snapping his hips with ferocity, lip drawn between his teeth in focus as he slammed her harder and harder into the bed of the couch. One hand was wrapped in her hair, shoving her face into the purple fibers, smooshing her cheek into the surface._

_Her ass was pressed against his hips, cunt taking every inch of his massive cock with ease. He slammed into her like it was a punishment._

_For her or for you, you didn't know._

_He groaned in pleasure, fucking her harder. She moaned, too, bouncing back to meet him halfway. A low cursed escaped his lips._

_"Fuck, yeah. You like that? You like when I pound this cunt for all it's worth? Fuck, you feel good. Tell me how much you fucking love taking my cock."_

_"Yes. Fuck yes, oh my gods, I love it. Please, you're so big, don't stop."_

_You couldn't bear to see any more._

Gasping, you wrenched yourself out of his mind, dropping the connection like it was a hot steel rod burning your skin. You thought you heard Aldomar murmur words of concern from beside you, but you weren't paying him any attention.

No, your eyes were glued to Kylo, and his to you. He stood perfectly still and rigid, as if he feared the slightest movement might scare you off. His fists were clenched, chest rising and falling with urgency. Anticipating your next move.

You were barreling out of the throne room and down the corridor before you could even tell yourself where you were going.

You took the back exit, desperate to get away, as if every step you took drove a wedge between the image that had just played in your mind like a hologram. Though you'd dropped the connection to Kylo's memory, the woman was still _there,_ her image burned behind your eyes _._ Her ass flush with his hips, her hair wound taut around his grasping fingers.

Your stomach roiled as you kept moving, not even sure where you were going, just _knowing_ that you had to get away.

Breath coming in so quickly it was nearly choking you, you ducked into a nearby room, the sounds of your coronation muffled and distant on the other side of the wall.

You came to a sudden halt when you were finally secluded in a small, dark room.

And as expected, Kylo was behind you. You didn't dare look at him, but you could _sense_ him there, standing beneath the threshold like a dark shadow, catching his breath from the effort of chasing after you. He didn't speak. You didn't dare to, either.

You rose your gaze, and with a sickening realization, recognized the room as the broom cupboard where you and Kylo had consummated your marriage during your wedding reception. Stomach roiling, you braced your hand on the very table he'd fucked you on. Back then, you'd been so strangely elated to be married to the enemy. You knew he was a threat to all your people, but even then, you couldn't deny how relieving it felt to belong to someone. To have someone belong to you. Even if it was fake. Even if it was all a lie.

Maybe it would have been easier to resist the comfort of the façade. To remember, painstakingly, that you and him could never be together.

Maybe if you'd considered that, you wouldn't feel like you were being shredded apart by pain.

Slowly, you garnered the nerve to face Kylo. He looked as cold and as daunting as ever, the dark embodiment of your deepest fears and your deepest sorrows. It looked like death himself was standing underneath the doorway, or if not death, a demon. A Prince of one of the Corellian hells. Maybe that's why royalty came so naturally to him.

"Who was she?" your voice was barely a whisper.

"No one," Kylo responded evenly. "She was no one."

"Have you lost your mind?" you breathed. "The night before my coronation? _How could you?_ " Your voice dripped with disgust and horror. Kylo's fists clenched in response.

"You wanted this. You _told_ me you wanted this."

Regrettably, he was right. You'd told him yourself only the night before— _"I hope you do fuck somebody else. In fact, I'd thank her personally for getting you off my hands."_ Something about sending her a fruit basket for the trouble. But that didn't matter. And in the moment, it felt utterly inconsequential, a useless, crumbling barrier against your rage. Without thinking, you were on him, shoving your palms against his chest. He barely budged from the impact, but it didn't stop you from hitting him hard, your hands pounding away at his leather and muscle.

"I wanted a husband who loves me!" you cried. "I wanted someone who would never hurt me in the first place! Who would never raise a hand against my loved ones! Someone who wouldn't lock me in a room or fuck me on a grave, you _monster_!"

And the strange thing was, even though unbeknownst to Kylo, your entire marriage was a sham, you weren't lying. Because somewhere along the lines, you realized that whatever you and Kylo had wasn't fake. It was _real. Regardless_ of the Resistance, or what it wanted from you.

Tears betrayed your anger, betrayed every instinct and desire to stay strong. They spilled down your cheeks without invitation. His hands had found their way around your wrists, pinning you against his chest just like he had in the tomb. But this time, he was relaxed. Resolute. He said nothing as he held you against him, but his touch was unthreatening. Almost soothing. Steadying. You resisted the urge to sink into him and let him comfort you.

"I know," he forced through clenched teeth.

You stopped struggling, going weak against his grasp as his words reached your ears, flooding you with confusion. You stared back at him with teary eyes and a furrowed brow. What the hell did he mean he _knew?_

He loosened his grip on your wrists but didn't let you go, as if ensuring that you wouldn't start hitting him again if he did. Narrowing your eyes, you didn't struggle or seize it as an opportunity to attack him. So he let you go, releasing you altogether and lifting his hands to the sides of his helmet. His fingers sank into the latches. You heard the familiar hiss of air, and then Kylo was pulling it off of his head, dropping it to the floor with an unsettling _thunk_.

Instantly, your eyes fell into his, into those familiar, molten pools of honey that appeared black under the dim lighting. Involuntarily, you exhaled, feeling your body settle itself, comforted by his gaze in spite of how much you wanted to detest him.

Jaw set, he held your stare in silence for a few heavy moments, as if he could sense that just seeing his face was enough to bring you down. Tears prickled your eyes all over again.

"You've never felt like you've had a true home. A true family," he said curtly. "Your mother never loved you the way a mother should. You were nothing but a pawn in her game. A duty-bound puppet. Your destiny was lined out for you from birth, and you never had a say inany aspect of your life, thanks to your mother. And she was cruel to you. She never made you feel loved. She never _felt_ like a mother. You've felt alone all your life."

A fresh surge of salty tears was spilling over your cheeks. You could no longer meet Kylo's eyes—it was too painful.

Because he was right.

Maybe that's why you had proven to be the Resistance's worst spy. Maybe that's why you were starting to grow too attached to the enemy, and couldn't seem to stop, even though you knew it was wrong.

Because you'd never had a teacher who understood you. Because you'd never been in a room full of men who respected and feared you. Because you'd never known friends like the Knights. Because you'd never known power the way you did now. Because you'd never known a home like Naboo.

Because no one had ever made you feel the way Kylo did.

"Stop," you whispered, cowering against the far wall.

"No," he said, surging forward, snuffing out the space in between your bodies. "You've never had a true family before."

" _Kylo-"_

"But now you have me."

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, breath constricting in your chest. He caught your stare and held it, devouring every tear, every thread of despair on your face. If you'd ever looked at your mother like that, she would have chided you, or even _slapped_ you for showing weakness. But Kylo wasn't doing that. He was reveling in your emotions. In your truth. And he was accepting it.

Something stirred in your chest, two conflicting instincts fighting for dominance. First, there was the instinct to hug him, to let him hold you, to let him be your new family. To turn your back on the Resistance and your mother, both of whom expected far too much of you. If you did, you would have the Knights. You would have _Kylo._ You'd never have to worry about losing them. And you'd never have to worry about General Organa or your mother or their expectations of you _ever again._

You twitched in his direction, ready to give in. To give yourself over to him forever. It was far too tempting.

But then the other instinct was flickering to life, growing with every second you didn't act upon the first.

Kylo Ren would destroy you. He already _was_ destroying you. Whether it was dragging you to the Dark Side or dragging your heart through the mud, he would get you killed.

You loved him.

But you couldn't trust him.

"The night of my coronation, Kylo," you gritted. "How _could_ you? I'm your _wife._ "

"You said you were only my wife in name," he argued, pressing harder against you. Your back flattened against the wall, and you turned your face away. _"You_ said that."

"Don't. Don't do that. You know how I feel about you."

"You're mistaken. I don't."

"Then you're more of an idiot than I thought you were."

" _Careful, Princess-"_

"Get off me!" you stammered, shoving him away just as he advanced closer. He stumbled back from the shock rather than from the impact, staring at you with lifted brows and a genuinely dumbfounded expression.

As if this entire conversation hadn't gone a thing how he'd expected it to.

"The least you could have done was shown me the decency of waiting until after my coronation. First, killing Evander, making me kneel, threatening my people, and now _this_? You've disrespected me and betrayed my trust in every single sense, Kylo. And until you can understand what that feels like, I will _never_ forgive you."

You couldn't stomach giving him another look before exiting the room. If you had, you may have stayed. Given into him. And you couldn't risk that. It was growing harder and harder to outrun Kylo's advances on you.

Because for better or for worse, you wanted him. More than anything, you wanted him.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Kylo had been pacing ever since he'd sent for Gil. Which meant he'd been pacing for quite some time. The Knight had to wait for a replacement guard to arrive at Princess's quarters before reporting to his Master. After what felt like an eternity, Kylo finally heard his door rattle with a series of knocks.

Twitching his index and middle fingers in a " _come here"_ motion, the door opened. And Gil stepped inside.

Kylo was still plastered in front of the window, gazing into the night sky. He couldn't stomach to look at Gil, not yet. His head was too full. Body too tense. And with what he was about to ask of his apprentice, he knew that if he looked at him too long, Gil would end up dead.

"I spoke to her," Kylo said coldly. "I spoke to the Empress. As you suggested."

"And?"

"And it didn't go a _thing_ like how you told me it would," he seethed, clenching his fists, whirling around to face his student.

Gil nodded, looking away. "I should have guessed. She hasn't said a word all night."

Kylo hummed lowly, pacing in front of the windows once again.

"What are you going to go?" Gil asked. "I don't think things are going to be easy for either of you if this isn't resolved."

Swiftly, Kylo turned around to face Gil, hands clasped behind his back.

Gil knew his Master had a plan—of course. Because Gil was _right._ There was no way Kylo's relationship with Princess could continue this way. If it did, there wouldn't be a relationship left.

Princess had said she would never forgive him—but only if he didn't know what she had suffered.

His chin twitched upwards, teeth gritted beneath the mask as he engulfed the young Knight with his gaze. The next words out of his mouth were perhaps the most painful he'd ever spoken.

"I need you to do something for me."


	26. Room For One More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER NOTES: Hello lovelies! A couple of announcements today.
> 
> First off, I want to thank @lambic_and_lace for the amazing and stunning fan art inspired by this work she posted to her TikTok. Seriously, I burst into tears when I saw it. You guys are so incredible and so talented. Also, you guys can always reach out to me on my TikTok @_trisswrites_ but please DM me here on wattpad.
> 
> Second. Getting quite a few comments and DMs lately asking me to post chapters before I am ready. For those who have asked, I adhere to a loose posting schedule but the bottom line is that I will never ever force myself to meet that schedule if the chapter’s not ready. I work really hard on these chapters to ensure that they’re ready to go. I spend hours upon hours on each one. Even with the schedule I follow now, they’re not perfect and not the ideal quality I want them to be. But for them to be perfect, I would be ruminating on chapters for WEEKS. The balance between timeliness and quality is super important to me. I love that you guys are excited and I’m truly flattered! I just want you all to know that I’m not going to rush these chapters, and wanted to clear that up. I love you dearly and I know it comes from a good place, but please stop asking me to post sooner! I would rather you have something you enjoy reading even if it takes a few extra days. <3
> 
> On that note……….enjoy 😉
> 
> https://media.gettyimages.com/photos/model-walks-the-runway-at-the-julien-macdonald-show-during-london-picture-id1033894954?s=2048x2048

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Gil had been putting this off for far too long. He marched down the corridors of Theed Palace en route to Princess’s room like he was walking through a battlefield. Somehow, _this_ was even more daunting.

It had been a week since the coronation. Since Gil’s conversation with Master—a conversation he certainly never thought he’d have in a million kriffing years. And it’s not like he hadn’t _thought about it._ It’s not like he didn’t want to _do_ it. But it just felt…wrong. And beyond that, he was pretty sure Master was going to regret it.

Gil had been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of soul searching to justify what Master had asked of him. And the only logical conclusion he could come to was that Master was in agony. It had been _weeks_ since he’d even had so much as a civil conversation with Princess. One of the first things Gil had learned under his Master’s tutelage was the benefit of feeding off anger and pain. _Increasing_ those sensations to focus the mind. To increase power.

What Master was asking felt more like _that_ than a plea for forgiveness. Though Gil was sure it was probably a nuanced combination of all of the above.

Still, his palms were sweaty as he approached Princess’s door. He’d put it off for a week as it was. And of course, after only a day, Master had practically berated him, _demanded_ to know why the deed hadn’t been done yet. Gil tried to remind him that these things take _time._ If he rushed it and she didn’t respond well, the entire thing would blow up in their faces. Begrudgingly, over the past few days, Master seemed to accept Gil’s strategy—which was to take this slow and steady. Now, Master wasn’t so angry. But he was incredibly withdrawn. A pulsating, pent-up ball of silent, repressed rage. For Master, that was patience.

Gil rapped on the door and stepped inside without waiting for an answer. If he had to stand there alone with his thoughts, waiting for Princess to open the door, he might have turned the other way. This time, he didn’t give himself the chance to hesitate.

When he stepped inside, two handmaidens were scurrying about the room. Princess was standing near her bed—packing a _bag._

Why was she packing a kriffing bag?

Instantly, Gil’s thoughts were completely derailed.

“I’m leaving,” she told him, not waiting for him to greet her.

“I’m-wait, what?”

“Leaving,” she repeated, shoving another dress into the bag. “Getting away for a day or two.”

“And you didn’t think to tell your bodyguard?”

“I’m telling you now. Move, BB-9E,” she murmured, sidestepping the droid to close her wardrobe and move to her vanity, evidently ensuring that she hadn’t forgotten anything.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Coruscant.”

“Your Majesty. What are you going to do in Coruscant?”

“I don’t know. Go dancing.”

“Go- _what_? Go dancing? Go dancing with _who?_ You don’t have any friends in Coruscant.”

“Then I’ll _make_ friends,” she snapped.

Gil sighed. Only then did she turn to look at him. He ran a hand down his face, exasperated, his cheek drooping under the weight of his palm. “Okay, I’m-I’m going to have to ask Master about this.” Though in all honesty, Gil knew she wouldn’t need Master’s permission to do _anything._ He was so hell-bent on earning her forgiveness, and clearly, his tactics didn’t exclude extreme self-destruction. Gil wasn’t sure if Kylo’s new plan to earn Princess’s forgiveness was _actually_ a plan to earn her forgiveness, or if it was actually just a way to punish himself.

“Ask Master whatever you like,” she mocked. “I don’t care. I’m going.”

“Well, I think it goes without saying that wherever you go, I go.”

“Whatever,” she said, slamming a drawer and throwing a few extra items on top of the piles of clothes in her overnight bag.

“Although, I have to admit. It’s only been a week since your coronation; it probably isn’t a good look for the Empress to shirk her Empress-ly duties so soon.”

“Duties?” she scoffed, zipping up her bag and shooing away her handmaidens when they sprung forward to help her. Princess was perfectly capable of doing things on her own. As nice and as dedicated as Jama and Sara were, Princess didn’t take kindly to having things done for her. Especially when those things were mundane and easy. But honestly, Gil loved that about her. He loved the way she refused to be seen as _just_ a royal figure. “I don’t have any duties. I’m a figurehead. And if you ask me, a week of living in complete hell is long enough. I deserve a kriffing vacation.”

“Alright. Alright,” he agreed, eyeing the handmaidens as they scurried about the room, undoubtedly finding something to clean. Princess rarely had privacy these days, and she certainly didn’t now. It appeared that the conversation Gil had been hoping to finally have would have to wait even longer.

Of course, he had direct orders to report Princess’s whereabouts to his Master. Gil expected the Emperor to be furious to learn that Princess’s anger only seemed to have gotten worse, now compelling her to leave the kriffing planet. He was shocked that when he told his Master, he seemed so…patient. Perhaps patient wasn’t the right word, but _resolute._ Not only did Kylo order Gil to accompany her, but he told him to take the rest of the Knights to ensure her safety.

It looked like the Knights were going to Coruscant.

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

Blue? No. White? Definitely not.

You’d thrown a few dresses into a bag, not knowing how long you’d be gone for. As it turned out, you would only be away from Naboo for the night, but you were glad you’d had the forethought to pack some options.

The plan was to go clubbing in Coruscant. Which, needless to say, a Princess like you had _never_ done. Your stomach was pooling with nervousness, but mostly with excitement as you rifled through your bag. You were crouched uncomfortably in the tight refresher of the Night Buzzard. You’d been traveling for a few hours, and you were nearing the hangar on Coruscant. Satisfied when your fingers fell over a silvery, shiny strip of fabric, you pulled out the dress and slipped it on.

Stepping out of the refresher was daunting. The Knights—really, almost _everyone_ you knew—had only seen you in long, draping gowns.

This…this was certainly different.

It was less of a dress and more of an elaborate series of straps and plunges holding on by a wing and a prayer. The only parts that were covered were the parts that would render you a nudist if they weren’t. It was a glistening silver shade, the color just as eye-catching as the shape.

You swallowed thickly as you stepped out into the main hold, bravely placing yourself in front of all six Knights.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Gil, shut the fuck up _right now,”_ Kuna hissed, seizing the other Knight by the collar.

“How do you even _own_ something like that?” Finor asked, bewildered. For once, he wasn’t piloting the ship. They’d brought along a TIE pilot so the Knights could focus on _you_. And right about now, they were pretty thankful for making that choice.

“Summers in Hapes are uncommonly warm,” you explained with a devilish grin.

“If I was your mother, I sure as fuck wouldn’t let you out of the castle in _that,”_ Maxir hummed, the tone of his voice mirroring the wickedness in your smirk.

“No. No,” Gil said, shaking his head fervently. “Absolutely not. Do you know what Master would do to me if I let you out wearing _that?”_

“That’s funny. I don’t remember asking.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he argued, lunging forward to grasp your arm at the wrist, presumably to lead you back into the refresher to make sure you changed. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb wearing a thing like that.”

“Actually. I think she’ll fit right in.” You looked up, and Rharo was eyeing you approvingly, his helmet already removed, thumb dragging across his lower lip as his eyes lingered on your fully exposed cleavage.

Gil sighed. You looked back at him, batting your eyelashes. Whether or not Gil liked it, Rharo had a point. Whether what you wore was modest enough or not didn’t matter. What mattered was concealing your identity.

“If I wear something like this, literally _no one_ is going to even guess that I’m the Empress. Those people have never even seen my face before.”

“She’s right,” Finor agreed. “No one’s gonna suspect who she is if she…well, if she looks like that.”

“But-”

“Gil. I’m the captain of this ship. And our instructions from Master are _clear.”_

“I don’t want to hear a thing about your ‘instructions from Master,’” you complained, giving your most dramatic finger-quotes and rolling your eyes so hard you practically saw the back of your skull.

“To take Princess where she wishes," Finor continued. "And to get her in and out of Coruscant _safely._ ”

And you had to admit, _that_ was quite the surprise coming from Kylo. Honestly, you were more than shocked that he was allowing this at all. Your initial plan was to simply not wait for his permission. But when Gil had told him you were planning on taking a vacation, no one was more shocked than you to learn that Kylo had even helped orchestrate it—sending each and every one of the Knights along with you to ensure that you could enjoy yourself with a full team of security. In fact, you’d heard whispers about growing unrest in Naboo. Perhaps the idea of escaping, even just for a night, made Kylo feel at ease.

Honestly, it made you feel uneasy. Made you feel like he had an ulterior motive. Made you suspect he was planning something. But you didn’t want to spend the whole night on edge. You wanted to force yourself to enjoy what was happening, even if it was _weird._ After all, happiness was the best revenge.

“Last I checked, I’m the Empress. Not your Princess,” you reminded Finor.

He turned back to you. You couldn’t see his face, but you could detect the mischievous glimmer in his eyes, the subtle pull of his smirk that you’d seen the first time you’d met him.

“Not tonight, you’re not, Princess,” he purred. Then, turning back to the rest of the Knights, “Alright, everyone,” he called. “You know the drill. This is an undercover mission. Helmets off.”

You stared, a smirk pulling on your lips, enjoying the show of each Knight pulling their shaggy heads out of their helmets. There was no hope in holding back the grin that emerged watching Kuna, Maxir, Finor, and Gil free themselves of their masks, shaking out their hair and wiping their brows on the backs of their hands. They were shedding their outer coats and tunics, too, leaving them in nothing but imposing black uniforms—boots and cargo pants and leather shirts. Without their weapons, they actually looked like they had a good chance of having fun tonight.

Involuntarily, you looked to the side as you caught Varlo just in time to watch him follow suit with his helmet. First, you saw a mass of tousled, sandy-brown hair. When his eyes finally engulfed yours, for a moment, you were hit with a brick of temporary confusion. And then you remembered you had _never once_ seen him without his mask.

You didn’t know what you were expecting. But it certainly wasn’t this.

He tilted his head to the side, exposing the impossibly sharp line of his jaw, covered in a gentle layer of blonde stubble. His eyes were cold and scrutinizing as they scanned you over, brow drawn and intense.

Holy kriff.

He was fucking _gorgeous._

“Do they put something in the water in the Unknown Regions?” you blurted. “Something that makes you all look like _that?_ ”

Rharo smirked, stepping forward and adjusting his gauntlets the way one may adjust a pair of cufflinks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he purred.

“And Princess.” It was Finor’s voice. Pulling away from Rharo, your smile died slowly as you caught glimpse of the stern expression on Finor’s face. “There are a few rules for you, too.”

“The fuck there are.”

“Princess,” he said pointedly. A warning. A father scolding their child. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s for your own safety,” Gil murmured.

“Ugh. Fine,” you groaned, gesturing for Finor to continue.

( _“Such a fucking diva,”_ Kunir snorted from behind you.)

“First. You’re not to go _anywhere_ with at least one of us. I mean that. I don’t even want you out of Gil’s line of sight for one second. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” you huffed, rolling your eyes.

“Second. I know how much you like to argue-” Finor held up a hand to silence you when you opened your mouth to interject- “But if given an order, you will follow it. Immediately. If something happens and we need to evacuate you, it’s essential that we have your full cooperation.”

“Fine,” you said, storming towards the doors as you felt the ship begin to stutter, a clear sign that the Night Buzzard was about to land.

“And third.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“No fraternizing with _anyone,”_ he said, eyes stern. You swallowed thickly. That was most likely a direct order from Kylo. Your stomach turned at the thought of him having to make that painstakingly clear to Finor. As if he expected you to be unfaithful the way he had. For a split-second, you went silent, flooded with guilt.

But then, Rharo was brushing up against you, nudging your shoulder as he approached the ramp. “Except us, of course.”

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

By the time you reached the club, the moon was hanging high in the sky over Coruscant and the air was dark and smelled like smoke and spilled liquor. You’d heard that Coruscant boasted a large red-light district but you certainly never thought that you’d see it for yourself.

People in the hangar would likely recognize the Night Buzzard. And even if their faces had never been seen, six terrifying, burly looking men in black clothes would draw attention. However, the Knights were known to frequent all kinds of unsavory locations during their travels. You were hardly the first woman to travel with them. No one would know who you were.

What’s more was that Coruscant’s red-light district was mostly full of elites. The bars and clubs and brothels were frequented by aristocrats and politicians. It wasn’t as if you’d be exposed to the common rabble, which made you feel even more secure. Regardless, the Knights were clad head to toe in hidden armor and concealed weapons. You saw Rharo adjusting a switchblade under his gauntlet. Gil had a pair of daggers strapped underneath his shirt, secured by a harness; you’d gotten a glimpse when he’d raised his arms to stretch while you were still aboard the Night Buzzard.

Each of them was as alert as they ever were, and even though you were probably safer than you’d be in Theed, they were ready for anything.

Everyone walking through this part of the city looked expensive. Diamond-covered women on the arms of men in silky-white suits and metal jewelry. Everywhere you looked, the darkened but pristine street was lined with monocles and money and fancy headdresses and necklaces that look like they weighed a ton. You were certainly no stranger to mulling about with the elite, but something told you that this crowd was entirely different from the royals you knew back home.

These people frequented the red-light district of Coruscant.

The Knights lead you to a club that looked more like a temple, each of them looking effortless and devoid of the fear and nerves that were starting to vibrate inside your body. They’d all probably done this a million times. But you—you never had. You were about to taste a freedom you didn’t even know existed.

And there was no one besides these six men that you’d rather do it with.

A butler opened the door for you. And you stepped inside.

You could hear the muffled music thumping before you’d even ducked under the threshold. Even so, it couldn’t have prepared you for what you saw.

Your lips parted in awe.

Everything was bathed in vibrant, bright light—everything and every _one._

It was packed. Packed with expensive-looking patrons, all of them emanating hunger and thirst.

Women—there were women _everywhere,_ stunning dancers in gemstone-laden bikinis and corsets, their high ponytails shining under the strobe lights. Some were dancing on poles. Others were dancing on _men._ Each of them moved like they were true masters of their bodies, and it wasn’t hard to understand how the men ogled them like total idiots.

Just when you were sure it couldn’t get any better or any more colorful, a male server in shiny gold pants passed, holding a tray of an assortment of cocktails. They were all iridescent, each a different, bright color. One was hot pink and foamy. Another was silky smooth and purple, a flame of _real fire_ licking at the rim of the glass. Another one was a cool light blue, sporting slices of at least three different exotic fruits.

And the _music._ The music was deafening in the most delicious way possible. You gazed around the massive patron-stuffed dance hall and caught sight of a live cantina band playing on a low-hanging balcony. A sultry Twi’lek woman in a bikini was crooning into a microphone. Behind her, a dancer was making love to a steel pole.

You’d never seen anything like it.

And you _loved it._

“Hardly a place for a Princess,” Gil murmured in your ear. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, but you didn’t mind it. “What do you think? Want us to find you someplace a little less wild?”

You turned, happy to be greeted with the sight of his face rather than his mask. “Don’t underestimate how wild I can be.”

His gaze snagged in yours for longer than what felt normal. And you would have kept staring, mulling through the strange energy brewing between you and your bodyguard—but within seconds, Rharo was snagging drinks off the tray of another passing waitress, thrusting it in your hands.

You gasped and giggled, noting immediately that the drink Rharo had chosen for you was a soft blue, white wisps floating beneath the rim like tiny cloud formations.

“What's in this?”

“Who fucking knows?” he called over the pounding music. Rharo glanced around himself, ensuring that the huddle of Knights (and you) all had a drink in their hand. Various shades of vibrant liquor rested in the glasses held by the men standing in a tight cluster with you. You were pretty sure that no one had the faintest idea what they were drinking. But somehow, it kind of seemed like that was the point.

“Bottoms up,” Rharo growled. On his command, each of you took a courageous swig.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting. Perhaps the serene sky-blue color of your drink had tricked you into thinking it wouldn’t be strong. But it burned like jet fuel on the way down, scorching your belly. You coughed, noting how you were the _only_ one out of all the Knights who seemed to have trouble forcing it down. But instantly, you were laughing, too. And instantly, your mind felt calm. You gazed at the tiny white clouds that floated gently in the remainder of the liquid. And you felt completely and totally at ease, your nerves settled, your mind focused on one thing and one thing only.

_Fun._

Kuna clapped you harshly on the shoulder. He likely didn’t know his own strength; you practically stumbled forward, but you didn’t even care.

“Alright,” Rharo said, throwing his newly empty glass to the ground. You gasped and giggled as it shattered, not finding the purpose to feel angry or startled or irritated or _anything_ but purely and serenely happy. Whatever the hell was in that drink was starting to feel pretty fucking good. “Divide and conquer. We’re getting our dicks wet tonight. You too, Princess,” he added with a nod, pointing his finger in your direction until he peeled away from the group, off to browse the merchandise.

You couldn’t help but grin, and as soon as he was gone, you found yourself in a Kuna and Maxir sandwich. Each of them were suddenly flanking your shoulders, grinning down devilishly at you.

“What do you say, Princess? Feel like misbehaving?”

The corners of your lips twitched upwards, and you tossed your drink onto another passing tray.

“Always.”

The dance floor was absolutely packed. Though you were still sandwiched between Kuna and Maxir, you were surrounded by other bodies. Within seconds, you could feel the heat coming off of everyone—all the scantily-dressed ladies and desperate men. And with the Knights plastering you between their bodies, you felt indecently heated in more ways than one. Kuna pressed his hips to yours, grinning down on you. Your ass found Maxir’s crotch, and for a split second, you feared that Kylo would have them tortured and killed for just looking at you sideways.

But then you remembered that Kylo was the one who ordered them to accompany you.

And they wouldn’t do _anything_ to you unless they were sure that Kylo permitted it.

But why the kriff would Kylo permit _this?_

With a roll of Kuna’s hips, the worries and doubts wisped from your mind. This was about having fun. Experience life. Leaving your regrets at the door. This was about escaping—just for one night.

You grinned, slinging your arms around Kuna’s neck and resting your head back against Maxir’s shoulder. You felt fuzzy as their hands began to trail your body, warming you under their palms, leaving a distinct buzzing sensation under their wake.

It was bliss. Pure bliss. And it was _fun._ And after a few songs had passed, after you were slick with sweat from head to toe, it became clear that you needed this. Even if it was only a one time thing.

At some point, Rharo found you all, thrusting shots into your hands. You knocked them back, reveling in the way the liquor scorched your throat. Wiping your lips on the back of your hand, you tossed Rharo the empty glass.

And the instant you realized that you hadn’t seen Gil in a while was the same instant your eyes found him in the crowd.

He was only a few feet away, dancing with a girl in a purple corset. They certainly seemed to be having fun, dancing in a similar way to you and the two Knights.

You called his name over the music. Nothing. It was so kriffing loud, you weren’t sure you’d be able to raise your voice any more. But by some miracle, he heard you the second time.

_“Gil!”_

“Oh, shit!”

Taking the girl’s hand, he led her over to you—you, who was still stuck between the undulating hips of Kuna and Maxir.

“Enjoying yourself?” you laughed, eyes darting between him and the woman.

He smirked, his teeth gleaming between his parting lips. He was just as much of a sweaty mess as you, his face flushed, his shirt damp, black hair tousled. You had to admit he looked incredibly sexy. “Princess. This is Anya. Anya, this is…”

You saw the panic in Gil’s eyes in the same moment you felt it settle in your stomach like a stone. He couldn’t share your name. And he could hardly share who you were. But by the grace of the gods, Anya didn’t wait for Gil to finish. Instantly, she was leaping forward, clasping your hands in hers, beaming up at you. She was sporting a high ponytail that draped to her waist, her hair so sleeked back it was a wonder she could blink. But she was uncommonly pretty, the stunning purple corset hugging her sensuous curves. Weirdly, you felt kind of jealous. But at the same time, it was hardly lost on you why Gil would be attracted to her.

“Gods, aren’t you _gorgeous!”_ she squealed, jumping up and down with her hands still clasped in yours. You failed to hold back a bubbling laugh. Whatever the hell she was on, it seemed like she was having an _excellent_ time.

“Thank you,” you laughed. “You too.”

You opened your mouth to keep speaking, to compliment her hair, but abruptly, the song ended. She turned to the balcony that sported the musicians, her face falling.

“Oh, shit. My number’s coming up.”

“Your number?”

“I’m a singer,” she explained with a blinding smile. “But I gotta go. Find you guys later?”

“For sure,” Gil offered, fingers lingering on Anya’s lower back before she returned him a sultry smirk. Then, she dipped into the crowd, out of sight.

You turned to Gil once she was gone, cocking a brow.

“Ladies man much?” you teased.

“Oh, shut up,” he laughed, lunging forward to wrap his arms around your waist.

You screamed in delight as he lifted you over his shoulder before setting you back down on your feet. You hung onto his biceps for support, giggling wildly and wiping the sweat from your brow.

It was a relief to have the Knights drop the titles for a night. Drop the pretenses. You were grateful to have them there to protect you, but honestly, it felt nice not to be hounded by “ _Your Highness”_ or “ _Your Imperial Majesty”_ wherever you went. Sometimes, you didn’t want to be an Empress. Sometimes, you didn’t even want to be a Princess. You were as old as you were, never having even been to a place half as fun as Coruscant. Getting to simply enjoy yourself the way any young woman should, surrounded by her _friends,_ felt long overdue.

The strobe lights were flaring, music pounding so hard that it quaked your entire body with each new beat. Each brightly-colored drink you knocked back warmed and throbbed in your belly, dizzying your vision. It was pure exhilaration but it was also pure sensory overload, and everything happening around you began to come in flashes: Kuna and Maxir stumbling off to the private rooms, both of them sporting a different woman on each arm. Finor grinding violently with a scantily clad dancer in nothing but a corset, a bedazzled thong, and a feathery headdress. Varlo sandwiched between one man and one woman, each of them peppering his neck with kisses and licks. Rharo participating in what looked like a shot-taking contest at the bar.

Your breath was coming in shallow but you laughed through it all—the exhaustion, the exhilaration, the _sheer thrill_ of shaking your ass in a club in a big city.

You’d never felt so alive.

And you'd barely even thought about Kylo, about the pain he’d caused you, all night long.

“All you alright?” Suddenly, Gil was inching closer to you, his fingers finding your lower back and grazing there lightly.

“I’m fine!” you assured him. But you could feel your face beating with blood, sweat drenching your forehead. “But I’m tired. Do you think I could sit down somewhere for a bit?” you asked, voice straining over the impossibly loud music.

He nodded, his lips darting to your ear so you could hear him over the deafening noise. “There are private rooms in the back. I’ll take you.”

Now, his hand was more urgent, guiding you as he led you towards the outskirts of the main room. You were pretty sure you knew exactly what those rooms were for, but you didn’t even care. At least there would be a bed, or at the very least, a couch, so you could recline and catch your breath for a few moments.

Gil led you down a dark corridor, bathed in sultry, purple lamplight. Well, for the patrons who frequented these private rooms, you were sure that the lighting would have set the mood. Grinning to yourself as Gil guided you into the last empty room that lined the corridor and shutting the door behind you, you wasted no time stepping inside. Sighing in relief, you sunk down onto the lush, black velvety couch.

You looked around the room. It was clearly an upscale establishment; as it turned out, there was a couch _and_ a bed, which was more than most brothels could boast. The bed was ornate, as were the rest of the furnishings, mirrors and end-tables sporting flowers and vials of oils and perfumes, making the room feel like it could be in a castle.

You craned your neck to look at Gil, then. He was just standing in front of the door, thumb dragging across his lower lip. His eyes were narrowed and his brow was knit, a clear indicator that he was deep in thought.

“What?” you asked.

He tilted his head. His eyes traveled the length of your scantily-clad body. Then, “Just thinking about how much I’m looking forward to bending you over the edge of that bed.”

You sat up straight on top of the couch, blood running cold. “That’s not funny,” you told him. You didn’t think he needed to be reminded of all the ways Kylo would torture him if he knew that one of the Knights had just insinuated he wanted to fuck you. But apparently, Gil needed reminding after all. “You shouldn’t joke about that. You know Kylo would kill you if he knew.”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

If your blood had gone cold before, now, your veins were iced over. You felt your brow knitting microscopically as you tried to unravel what he’d just said. It _sounded_ like he’d implied that Kylo had made the suggestion of Gil bending you over the bed and the implications that came with it.

But that was impossible.

Without meaning to, you were standing. Suddenly, you found yourself remembering just how revealing that scrap of a dress was. And suddenly, you felt bare under Gil’s eyes

“I don’t understand.” Or rather, you were _afraid_ to understand.

Gil exhaled, eyes swallowing you just as intensely as they had been before, but he kept the distance between your bodies. For the first time all night, he suddenly looked very serious.

“Look,” he said softly. “I know you’re hurt by what Master did to you. I would be too. But there’s a way to get even.”

You could barely even wrap your mind around what he was saying. “I…no. He wouldn’t want that. He would _kill_ you, Gil.”

“He’s the one who sent me.”

So there it was. 

Gil’s confession hung heavy in the air, settling on your shoulders like a burden you couldn’t bear. For a moment, you felt dizzy and disoriented, though admittedly, that was probably the alcohol’s doing in part. You paced about the room, trying to get your bearings. To figure out what the hell was going on.

Kylo had made it clear on more than one occasion that he wanted to _own_ you. He viewed you as his property. So why in a million kriffing years would he allow another man to have you?

Because you’d told him that the only way you’d ever forgive him was if he went through the same thing you did?

“Let him sulk. Let him play the victim” Gil breathed, voice soft as he took slow steps towards you. “I can make you feel better.”

You were stunned. Never, not even once, had you heard Gil speak even remotely ill of his Master before. But shockingly, he was _right._ The only way Kylo was willingly letting this happen was if he was trying to revel in his own self destruction. Or to trick you into doing it so you’d feel guilty and hate yourself. But as Gil slowly, gently approached you, you didn’t feel guilty at all. You saw a man that you knew you’d never love the way you’d love Kylo Ren. But you also saw a man who you knew was beautiful and kind, a man who made you feel protected and safe, who would never dream of hurting you.

A man who you knew cared for you.

Gil landed in front of you, and was silent for a few moments. So were you. He stared at you as if waiting for permission. Your shoulders relaxed and you exhaled, eyes softening as they stared back into his.

That was permission enough.

When Gil’s lips landed on yours, they were tender and gentle, and as he moved against your mouth, he was slow and cautious—as if savoring the moment. You sighed and Gil began to explore you further, tongue slipping between your teeth. The sensation made your breath hitch and the walls of your core flutter. It had been far too long since you’d felt this kind of physical touch.

He wrapped you in comfort, and after a few moments of hesitation, you found yourself sinking against his body. His hands were firm as they roamed your torso, sliding from your hips, your waist, up to your back, your body an undiscovered canvas under his palms. The whisper of a moan escaped from his lips, catching in your mouth, making you vibrate from the inside-out.

You heard the door open suddenly from behind you. You pulled your lips away from Gil, turning around within his arms to stare at whoever had just walked in on you kissing your bodyguard.

Sporting a devilish grin, Rharo was leaning in the doorframe, eyeing the scene before him: you, wrapped up in Gil’s arms, chests flushed, lips kiss-swollen and gleaming.

“Room for one more?” 


	27. Twisted Impulses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to my dearest wattpad-bestie @RIP_quizilla for being such an amazing resource for this work as a whole. This chapter was way out of my comfort zone, and as always, she let me pick her brain about it. Wouldn't have happened without her. Again--go check out "The Brighter Dark" if you've yet to do so!
> 
> On that note.....are you happy to be in paris?

You were completely dumbfounded, gawking at Rharo for what felt like a full minute--though in reality, it was most likely a few intensely heavy seconds. You couldn't even wrap your mind around what he was saying. Getting to sleep with _one_ Knight felt like a fever dream on its own. But _two?_

You needed to sit down.

The only thing was, you couldn't. You couldn't move a muscle. Couldn't even convince your lungs to work. You stared at Rharo, who was still standing smugly in the doorway, as if waiting to wake up from a very strange dream.

You didn't.

Then, fingers at your jaw. Your heart lurched as Gil gently guided your face back towards his; you'd almost forgot he'd been touching you. _Almost._ His lips met yours and you kissed him softly, never peeling your eyes off Rharo, glancing sideways at him as he began to take slow strides towards you. Gil's fingers felt like tiny matches lining your jawbone as he gently clasped you in his steady hand. And then, once Rharo was standing in front of you, effectively sandwiching you between the Knights, Gil was guiding your face again. This time, leading it in Rharo's direction.

Taller than even Kylo Ren himself, Rharo had to lean down in order to capture your lips. But he did anyway, and the mouth you met was plush and eager. You could still feel Gil's hands on your hips as Rharo slipped his tongue into your mouth, a silent exchange of permission as the taller Knight's rough fingers found your tits. He kneaded you roughly over the thin, shiny fabric of your dress. Your breath hitched into his mouth and he took it as permission, shoving the straps down your shoulders. Your breasts popped free.

Gil's lips moved to your neck, nipping your skin gently. You could feel him hard and thick beneath your ass. Rharo's right thigh cleaved the space between your legs. And suddenly, you were a lost cause, dizzy and delirious as two sets of hands roamed your body, two mouths peppering and licking. Someone had a soft fist in your hair. Rharo had taken one of your breasts into his mouth. You leaned back against Gil for support. If you didn't have him there behind you, you were fairly confident you would have lost consciousness.

You could feel your own wetness beginning to pool at your core, mindful of it as you grinded against Rharo. He growled in response, sucking harder on your nipple, pulling it back between his teeth and running his tongue up and down the sensitive tip. He flicked it rapidly, and you were hit with the dizzying realization that you couldn't even begin to fucking imagine if he could eat a woman out in the same manner.

_Fuck._

A moan escaped your lips; there was no hope for you now. Gil traced a trail of kisses down the nape of your neck, down lower, as his lean hands began to guide your dress down your hips, down your thighs, until it was nothing but a shimmery pool of fabric around your ankles. You stepped out of it, hands involuntarily reaching backwards to lace their way into Gil's hair. Fuck, it was soft and thick. It reminded you of Kylo's, but you swallowed down the thought, arching into the kiss that Rharo was placing at your collarbone. Both of your nipples were significantly wet, hardened and cold under the air. You writhed your ass against Gil's stiffening cock, desperate for more.

You failed to stifle a sound, something between a whimper and a moan. Feeling your lower lip tremble, you squeezed your eyes shut. Guilt was mounting just as hard as your desire, because you knew this was _wrong._ You were _married._ But you'd said it yourself—you and Kylo weren't together. Not anymore. Your marriage was nothing but a treaty. An alliance. A document--a kriffing piece of paper. 

The thought only gutted you all the more, though, because for better or for worse, you were still in love with your husband.

Mind and body reeling in conflict, clouding your judgment, you whimpered again, and Gil's hands were steady at your hips, turning you to face him. You couldn't meet his eyes, though, grappling with what this would do to Kylo.

Unless Kylo didn't care.

And then, there was something else. A spark of desperation. The beginnings of anger.

You only wished you could know what your husband was thinking. _Why_ he was doing this. But despite all of your doubts, you could feel yourself growing wet. Could sense your hips involuntarily writhing against Rharo's crotch as you grappled with your thoughts. Grappled with what you were doing. Where you were:

Stuffed in between two men, their hands roaming in worship over your body, because Kylo had allowed it.

You softened under Gil's touch, and your eyes fluttered open. When they found his, you saw that he looked painfully gentle, brows raised.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you sure about this?" you countered.

"Princess. As long as you are, there's nothing I'd rather do," he told you, squaring his jaw.

"But...but what about..."

"It's alright," Gil assured you. Rharo's hands roamed the canvas of your ass, shoving down your panties. You trembled under his touch, aching to feel his fingers at your core. "Princess. Trust me."

You exhaled. And as long as Gil was saying that Kylo would be alright, and that he wouldn't _kill_ you for doing what you were about to do, that was enough.

Because you trusted Gil.

You trusted Gil maybe more than you trusted anymore.

Certainly more than you trusted Kylo.

You sank into his touch all over again. This time, you kissed him fervently. Forcefully. Your tongue dove into his mouth, swirling against his, all wetness and warmth and urgency. Rharo was gripping you harder from behind now, his hand sliding under the curve of your ass to tease your exposed folds. You hummed into Gil's mouth, arching your ass back against Rharo's fingers.

"Good, Princess," the taller Knight hummed into the curve of your neck.

You were wet but you were tight. Clenched--likely in stress. And when Rharo slipped a finger into your entrance, you felt your walls squeeze him in protest. With Kylo, the sex was constant, and relatively speaking, easy. It had only been a few weeks but strangely, it felt like _forever._ And all things considered, it was difficult to relax. You didn't feel so used to it anymore. 

Continuing lazy motions with your tongue, kissing Gil sloppily and fervently, your hands found their way to his belt. He breathed a soft moan against your lips as your fingers began to work at his belt, unfastening the clasps until his pants were undone. And all the while, Rharo was teasing your cunt with his fingers, his lips dragging over your bare shoulder.

"Fuck," you breathed against Gil's lips, pressing your ass against Rharo.

"Do you know what Master has instructed us to do?" Rharo breathed against the curve of your neck

The sensation made your core flutter and your eyes shut. Mind reeling, you answered honestly, because you were still very confused as to how this was happening. "No," you breathed.

"Then let me tell you, Princess. Rharo's hand closed around your throat from behind. "We're going to fuck you until you can't remember what planet you're from."

A moan tumbled from your lips, and your whole body quavered.

"Is that what you want?" Gil breathed into your mouth.

You shuddered again, humming as Rharo pumped a finger in and out of your wetness. Throwing your head back, you were met with the sensation of Gil's lips at your jaw.

"I-I want-"

"Tell me. Tell us what you want."

Flooded with darkness and desire, you opened your senses, your _twisted_ impulses to the world around you, to the Knights worshipping your body. And it was as clear to you in that moment as it had ever been.

_"Everything."_

Then, Gil was pulling away. Your breath died the moment his lips parted from yours, and you watched, wide-eyed, breath bated as he began to take slow steps backwards towards the bed. His eyes burned into yours until he lifted his black shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. When he was free, he was swallowing you with his gaze all over again. Effortlessly, without so much as a look back, fine-tuned into his surroundings, Gil lowered himself onto the bed, back propped up on the pillows, one knee bent as he watched you and Rharo.

You turned again, this time to face the taller of the two Knights. Your fingers were already at the hem of his shirt, yanking it free. Bronze skin warmed your palms as you exposed his impossibly chiseled chest. Muscles curled and rolled under your touch, ridges and hard peaks making him look more like a god. You could hardly breathe. He was the strongest man you'd ever seen, his bulging muscles dwarfing the lean, fine-tuned ones that you'd grown familiar with on Kylo.

They were stunning—all of the Knights, even Kylo, _especially_ Kylo...the most gorgeous throng of bloodthirsty men imaginable.

Your lips dove to Rharo's, hips grinding furiously against his until your hand slid down his stomach, palming his prominent erection. He growled against your mouth; the sound was so aggressive, so blood-thirsty that you jolted in shock. But when you pulled away in fear, you saw that he was grinning devilishly down at you, baring a smile full of gleaming, strong teeth.

Shuddering, you turned to Gil as if asking for permission. He nodded, something dark and deep flashing behind his eyes.

Rharo's hands left your shoulders as you approached the bed, your body naked and bare, skin glistening with desire. You put your hands on the bed, then your knees, crawling over Gil's body until your fingers were at his hips.

You could feel Rharo behind you, heard the rustling of fabric and you knew that he was taking off his pants just as you were pulling Gil's down his legs. Tossing them aside and then looking back to him, you were met with a sight you wished you could burn into your brain forever: Gil, lean and sharp, hand languidly stroking his cock as his eyes bored into yours.

The mattress depressed behind you and you realized that Rharo had settled himself behind you with a soft grunt, his knees pressing into the bed. You trembled, burning with desire as your fingers trailed over Gil's abdomen. You rolled your hips gently, soft undulations inspiring a low curse from Rharo, who was enjoying the show from behind.

 _"Fuck,"_ he hissed, and Gil echoed him.

Gil gripped his cock at the base and you stared in awe at it—red and rock-hard, oozing with precum that dripped down the shaft. You practically drooled at the sight of it and felt a sudden, strong urge to feel it hitting the back of your throat and sliding through the wetness of your mouth.

You leaned over, lips hovering above Gil's dick as Rharo ran a finger up your slit. You hummed, sensing Gil tense beneath you from the stream of air that fanned his desperate cock. Rharo began pumping a finger into you, stretching your walls as you wrapped your lips around the head of Gil's cock.

You heard him inhale sharply, and then release it on a moan as you sucked him deep, your lips reaching the base, tongue swirling along the shaft that was filling your mouth. He cursed under his breath, one hand going to your hair and grasping at the root. Adjusting to his impressive size, you felt his wetness drench him. Within moments, he was slick in your mouth, and you began to bob your head in earnest.

At the same time, Rharo added another finger, pumping them both rapidly in and out of your cunt. You winced and then moaned, the sound muffled around Gil's cock. Drool pooled at your chin, your eyes rolling back when Rharo pressed in a third.

"Fuck," you choked, withdrawing your lips from Gil's cock to give him a few through pumps and rest your jaw. Then, you were on him again, feeling one of Rharo's hands press into the small of your back.

"You ready, Princess?" he grunted.

You hummed your approval, and Rharo slid his cock into your waiting cunt.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. "Just as perfect as I thought you'd be."

You moaned deeply, the sound reverberating on the cock that twitched within your lips. Rharo hissed lewdly from behind you, bracing one hand on your lower back and the other at the side of your hip, finding a steady and rough rhythm.

Groaning and gulping, you took Gil deeper, the urgency of your movements reflecting how good Rharo felt inside of you. Splitting you deeply, he pounded you from behind, and you could hear his cock sloshing through your wetness.

_What the fuck was happening?_

But you didn't care how senseless it seemed. How reckless it was to fuck both of your Knights, your closest friends. All that mattered were the men filling you to the brim. It was sheer, blinding bliss.

Only minutes had passed, but you were already flushed and breathless. The impact of Rharo's thrusts were pounding you deep, making your eyes water and your breath kick from your chest.

You took Gil deeper, feeling him hit your soft palate, gurgling from the impact.

"Good," Gil hissed. "Oh fuck, that's it. That's a good girl, Princess. Your mouth is so perfect. Feels so good on my cock, baby. You feel so fucking good."

"Fuck, your cunt's tight," Rharo grunted from behind you.

Your eyes rolled back and you moaned shamelessly, then began slurping Gil once again. Everything was wetter. Deeper. Tighter. He twitched at the base of your throat and you withdrew him on a gag.

"Fuck. Want to feel that fucking mouth myself," Rharo hissed, pulling out of you and wrestling you around to face him. You gasped and then giggled, watching the men tackle you for all of your pleasure.

And then Rharo was on his knees and you were lowering your head to meet his cock.

And Gil was pressing his cock into you.

"Oh, you have _no idea_ how long I've waited for _this,"_ he purred, leaning down to murmur it into your ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You moaned, jerking Rharo's cock in your hand. You glanced over your shoulder at Gil, who was watching you intently with dark eyes. Turning back to Rharo, you licked a broad stripe up his cock.

"Oh, fuck. Gil. Gil, _tell_ me."

Gil found a steady pace, fucking you slow and deep, just gradual enough for you to agonize over every inch.

As you took Rharo into your mouth, Gil hummed low praises, stroking your back with one hand and gripping your hips with the other.

"Sweet hells, Princess. I've been dreaming about kissing those perfect lips of those ever since you arrived. Watching the way you move in that armor. _Fuck._ So fucking desperate to have my mouth on every inch of you." As if on cue, his lips began to skirt down your shoulder. You hummed, the sensation igniting you, not knowing how much more you could take.

That was when you felt the Force circling your clit.

Another loud, muffled moan, your mouth stuffed to the brim with Rharo's cock. You could taste yourself on his skin and it was _divine,_ it was _perfection,_ it seared you to your core. And the invisible power working your sex, driving rapid circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves...

The noises escaping your throat were becoming more shameless. Louder. Rawer. Moans ripped from your throat and vibrated around the cock fucking your mouth. Gil was splitting you open from behind. You saw stars.

You sucked Rharo greedily, head bobbing up and down on his cock from the impact of Gil's thrusts.

And already, you knew you were close, your body flushed and shaking.

" _Fuck_ ," you choked, pulling yourself off of Rharo's cock, gagging and gurgling as it slipped free from your lips. Supporting yourself on one arm, you began to jerk him off, your impending orgasm driving you to delirium. "Oh my fucking gods."

"That's right, Princess," purred Gil from behind you. "Cum on my cock, baby. Cum for us."

Your eyes rolled back. And with the weight of Gil's words, you were cumming and cumming _hard,_ trembling and shaking as he pounded into your impossibly wet cunt. The Force deepened as it drove you to release and you shouted your way through your ecstasy, eyes clamped shut as Rharo fucked your hand. Your own shouts filled your ears and pounded in your head until finally, you were coming down, and everything was simmering. Gil had slowed his hips, and now, rocked into you in sensual, deep motions.

His hands went to your waist, and then he pulled you up against him, your shoulder blades to his chest. Rharo, kneeling in front of you, grasped your jaw and kissed your fiercely before his head was dipping lower. He slapped one of your breasts on a downward motion and then his lips closed around one of your nipples. Your ass pulsed to meet Gil's thrusts. Moans tumbled from your lips unchecked and unstoppable.

 _"Fucking Gods,"_ you choked once you were able to form a coherent thought, arching against Rharo's mouth.

"Wanna taste your fucking cum," Rharo growled, ripping himself out of you and wrestling you to your back. Giggles tore from your throat but were quickly replaced by moans of pleasure as thrust your thighs to your chest and licked a broad stripe up your pussy. Your eyes rolled back as he tasted your dripping juices, tongue lapping up the wetness that seemed to be pouring out of you.

When he was satisfied he hummed, licking his lips greedily and grimacing down on you as he thrust into you again. And then Gil was kneeling above you, pumping his cock over your face. Your mouth watered and you propped yourself on your elbow, craning your neck to pull him into between your lips.

 _"Oh yeah,"_ Rharo grunted, a low growl rumbling from his chest at he hilted himself, his hips stuttering against yours. "Oh, you're gonna be so fucking wrecked when we're done with you." A menacing, somewhat terrifying chuckle, and then another grunt. His fingertips were digging welts into your hips, and just when you thought that was enough pain to satisfy you, he placed a tenderless slap to one of your tits. The sound reverberated violently and you gasped so hard you gagged around Gil's cock. He groaned in response, the sound low and loud and raw as he kept thrusting into your mouth.

Gil whispered praises while Rharo fucked you like a madman, ramming into your cervix with abandon and hissing some of the vilest things you'd ever heard, things that went through your ears and shot straight through to your cunt. Things like, " _gonna send you back to Master dripping in cum,"_

Gil was hitting the back of your throat, Rharo pummeling you deep and hard, the Force working blissful wonders. Your mind was going blank, skin burning and tingling as you felt without a shadow of a doubt the beginnings of another climax. Your lips opened and you grunted, the sound a raw, tearing plea for release. Gil groaned as he watched you struggle, watched you _desperately_ chase your orgasm.

"Fuck yeah, Princess, you gonna cum for him? Cum like a good girl, baby."

 _Oh, fuck._ You'd never felt so filled, so _full_ in your entire life.

Yet again, the Force married with the pounding cock inside of you sent you over the edge. Your legs trembled violently at Rharo's waist and you screamed, head thrown back and fingers blindly grasping the sheets. You shook until everything simmered, until the pleasure was no longer an entity ripping you limb from limb, bursting through your skin. You relaxed, body limp, Rharo and Gil's roaming hands dragging you back to life.

"Oh my fucking gods," you whimpered, honestly feeling like you could cry from the bliss. "You're both so fucking good."

"That's right, baby," Gil purred, and only then did you realize his cock was no longer in your mouth, though you could feel a pool of saliva drenching your jaw. You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand and groaned, Rharo still ramming your cervix.

And you knew it wasn't the same. Because you knew despite it all, you still loved Kylo. But now, it wasn't about soulless desire, wasn't about your lover claiming his ownership over you, wasn't about how being loved and loving could sometimes feel akin to incarceration or captivity. Because as good as it felt with Kylo, as deep and soul-searing it felt to sleep with someone you loved, sleeping with Gil and Rharo didn't make you feel like you were going to get killed for doing it.

It was just _fun._ Pure enjoyment. Pure pleasure. Simple and satisfying and _safe_.

As if on cue, Rharo pulled out of you, and you could hear the grin in his voice when he spoke. "I know you want to be inside of that tight cunt again, Gil."

Wrestling you up, Gil found the mattress and yanked you on top of him. You straddled your bodyguard at the hips, moaning as he pressed himself up into you.

"We're not done with you yet," he hissed.

You threw your head back, moaning in glee when it found Rharo's shoulder. He admired the show from behind, jerking his cock and placing a staggeringly painful spank to your ass.

You yelped in pain, the sound erupting into a fit of blissful giggles as you bounced up and down on Gil's cock, arching your back.

"Haven't been able to stop thinking about this ass since the first moment I saw it. Fuck. Want to sink my teeth right into it," he growled, groping the flesh as you moved. You felt it swell and squish under his fingers. He was leaving welts, roughly roaming his enormous hands against you from behind.

"God, your body looks so fucking good like this," Rharo groaned, licking the curve of your neck. Gods above, he was like an _animal._

Gil slipped out of you just enough to Rharo to push back in from behind. Glancing down, you saw that your bodyguard was jerking himself off as he watched Rharo fuck you from behind.

And in a dizzying realization, it hit you like a ton of bricks that the Knights were going to go back and forth, taking turns fucking your cunt, switching between you like beasts marking their prey.

Rharo spanked you again. You squealed in response.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you, Princess? Like getting spanked like that? Like getting fucked like a whore?"

You cried out, head lolling back, humming out a definitive confirmation.

"I knew it. I knew from the second I saw you that you were going to be a little fucking brat," he gnarled, pounding you deep. I fucking love it. I love that bitchy fucking attitude of yours. _SHIT!"_ His hands were on your hips now, yanking you back to slam onto his cock.

"That's why all the Knights are so fucking obsessed with you. Why they dream about taking turns with you, having their way. The ways Master would punish them if he knew..."

"GODS!" you sputtered, sinking back down on Gil. You could barely breathe. From behind you, Rharo's breathing was growing harsh and heavy. And it was all becoming too fucking much. The Force. Two painfully strong, insultingly well-endowed men fucking you for all you were worth—focusing on _you_ and _your_ pleasure.

Your eyes saw the back of your skull and you practically drooled when Rharo pushed into you again.

This time, his hand found the small of your back and slammed you downward, your tits falling in Gil's face. He certainly didn't complain, using his hand to press them together, squeezing them roughly as he attacked them with his lips. Sandwiched between the two men, each of them grunting like beasts, all you could do was cry out as Rharo began to fuck you even harder and faster than he had before, which was sending jolts of electricity rocketing through your otherwise empty, mindless brain. His cock twitched inside you. Gil's lips closed around one of your nipples, sucking greedily.

 _"FUCK!"_ you screamed, shaking and trembling all over again.

But suddenly, Rharo was pulling out of you again, shoving you onto your back and fucking his hand. He roared as he reached his release, spilling himself onto your tits, ropes of cum spurting across your warmed skin. You gasped, intently watching him cum, admiring the way his bulky muscles rippled, watching the grimace that captivated his features.

His teeth bared, he grunted through the last of it, pumping himself to the tip, ensuring that every last drop was emptied onto your breasts. But Rharo was a fucking _beast,_ and you could count the seconds that passed on one hand before he was settling himself behind your head as Gil was taking his place.

Your bodyguard settled between your legs and thrusted into your pussy, hitching his hips to yours. Sensitive, you cried out, feeling Rharo's hand wrap around your neck with one hand. With the other, he supported your leg in the air, letting Gil pound you deeper. You yelped again, no longer bothering to try and swallow back the screams of overwhelming pleasure that were ripping from your throat.

" _Fuck, Gil, you're so fucking deep,"_ you grunted, straining against Rharo's hand.

Rharo hummed lowly in response, the sound reverberating deep in his grizzled chest, still foggy from the impact of his orgasm.

"Gil," you pleaded, feeling your clit burn, your impending orgasm threatening to burst and rip you at the seams. You gripped his biceps, paying no mind to the way your nails shredded into his skin. "Gil, _please._ "

"That's it, Princess," he groaned. "One more. One more, baby, I have you." Gil trailed two fingers through the cum on your tits, supporting himself on one elbow, and brought them to your mouth. You hummed, sucking him back without a second thought, your tongue running over Rharo's cum on Gil's fingers. Fuck, this was wrong, but the taste nearly made your eyes roll back in your head. That, and the knowledge of what you were doing. How dirty it was. How wrong. How angry Kylo would be with you. Of course, he'd warned each of them that if they'd cum inside of you, they'd be dead men. But surely _this_ didn't count. Eyes locked with Gil's, your heart fluttered violently when your bodyguard smiled down on you. "Such a good girl. Fuck, you're so perfect."

His hips were snapping now, pounding you deep and fast, making your tits bounce under Rharo's eyes. You kept your gaze locked on Gil—the twitching of his face, the way his brow pinched, how his jaw hung slack, the sweat beading along his forehead. Fuck. He was close. He was about to fall off the edge, and he was going to take you with him.

You couldn't hold it back anymore. The pressure blinding you, building slowly finally burst, tearing you from limb to limb, wracking your body with trembles. Your legs quivered at Gil's side, but you knew this was likely the only time you were going to be able to do this. So you fought the instinct to clamp your eyes shut, crying out through your orgasm, keeping your eyes locked with his as you came.

"Yes. _Yes,"_ Rharo roared, encouraging your bliss.

The sound shredded from your throat the same way the pleasure ripped through your body. The walls of your cunt squeezed and gripped Gil, and watching you cum only seemed to shove him right over the edge.

You saw the way his brow pinched, the way his eyes went blank and suddenly, he was pulling out, furiously fucking his hand until he spilled himself all over your stomach, groaning your name.

You felt rope after rope of cum spurt onto your belly, breath hitching from the warmth, the sheer intimacy of the situation. Gil was panting, chest expanding with each fervid inhale. And after a few moments, he was coming down two, the both of you catching your breath—together. And Rharo caressing your neck, enjoying the show.

Holding Gil's gaze until you thought you were going to pass out, you let yourself collapse against the mattress, let your eyes flutter shut. You whimpered, the aftershocks of your orgasm still shaking through your body and warming your blood. You felt Gil dip lower, lips caressing the curve of your neck, whispering soft praises into your skin.

Again, their hands were roaming, this time, gently, as their mouths tenderly worked you through the intensity of your third orgasm. Sensitive and spent, you hummed, arching into their touches, their kisses. You felt sweaty and hot, and of course, covered in cum, true to Rharo's word. Your breath began to steady.

"Both of you," you breathed blissfully. "Oh my _gods."_

The men hummed, touching you, coaxing you with their hands until you felt like you were floating. After a few moments, you were able to open your eyes, propping yourself up on your elbows and leaning over to press your lips to Rharo's. His lips parted and his tongue dove into your mouth. Sucking back on it lightly, you felt him hum into your mouth and it seemed to warm you from the inside-out.

After that, you turned to Gil, your tongue sliding between his lips, too. His kiss was tender, as was his touch as he trailed his fingers down your cheeks. A few moments passed, and you laughed softly against his mouth. He seemed to lighten, like you could feel his smile as it pressed against your lips.

You couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun.

Rharo hit the lights, telling you that you'd round up the others in the morning. You climbed into bed, cuddling up to both of them, laughing together as long as you could. It didn't take long before sleep was overtaking you.

Once you woke up the following morning, Rharo was gone, most likely paying for the room you hadn't bothered to leave or even rent. Something told you that the Knights of Ren stayed where the wished, used whatever facilities they liked, all across the galaxy. And since you were traveling with them, the same seemed to apply for you.

After you'd dressed and freshened up, you didn't so much as speak to a manager before you were heading to the hangar. Naboo was hours away, and you'd been gone long enough as it was. Kylo had only permitted you to leave for the night.

But you noticed how heavy the air seemed between you and your bodyguard. He didn't speak, barely even _looked_ at you as you boarded the Night Buzzard. Even when you'd taken off and were soaring into the sunrise, and after you had changed into some of Maxir's extra clothing to feel more comfortable, Gil hadn't said a word.

Your stomach twisted. Last night had been fun. It had felt like a relief to just lower the fucking stakes for once. To feel like the man you were fucking wasn't going to strangle you in your sleep because he had a nightmare.

But he wasn't just your bodyguard. He was your _friend._ And now you'd complicated things.

Chewing absentmindedly on the inside of your cheek and praying you hadn't made a mistake, you let your eyes trail over Gil. He was sitting at a small booth in the main hold, likely used for meetings or even for meals. He was alone; everyone seemed too hungover to speak. Kuna had locked himself in the bathroom. Maxir had already passed out in the cargo hold.

Exhaling, you settled yourself down in the seat across from Gil. His eyes lifted when you placed yourself in his line of vision.

"So what happens now?" you asked sheepishly, finally tearing your gaze from the window so you could look at your bodyguard instead.

He settled back in his seat, folding his hands across his chest though his eyes remained perfectly gentle.

"We go back to normal."

"Do we?

Gil rarely saw you look so timid. Almost...guilty. Like you'd just fucked her bodyguard when you still loved your husband.

Which, of course, was hardly lost on Gil.

It never was.

But you looked away anyway, hardly able to meet his eyes without feeling a staggering amount of guilt. You'd slept with him, with _Rharo,_ though you were in love with somebody else. Didn't that make you a horrible person? Weren't you leading Gil on? Or was it just too presumptuous to assume that your bodyguard was harboring feelings for you?

As if he could read your mind, or perhaps sensing your feelings like crackles of electricity in the air, Gil reached across the table and settled his hand over yours. Surprised, you found the courage to lift your gaze at last.

"Princess. You know that I...that I don't plan to sweep you off your feet. To even presume take you from Master."

"You can't take me. I don't _belong_ to him."

"Be that as it may...Princess. You know that last night was just...fun, you know? I care for you. I do. I want to help Master. I want to help _you._ But it's...I have no desire to complicate things."

You sighed, slowly understanding. Something, a strange, indiscernible feeling, was filling your body. And you weren't sure if you liked it or not. "So you don't have feelings for me."

"Of _course_ I have feelings for you. I'm devoted to protect you, to lay down my life at your feet if need be. I would defend your honor if it was the last thing I ever did. You're intelligent, you're capable, you're brave and beautiful. I have _feelings_ for you Princess—who wouldn't? They're just...they're just not the same ones that Master has."

Exhaling on a shudder, you let his words settle deep in your mind.

Honestly, it was easy to feel attached to someone after being intimate. You felt a strange withdrawal after being so close to Gil, after he'd felt you from the inside-out, after you'd felt him inside the parts of yourself that were otherwise hidden and secret. It felt strange and somehow disappointing to hear that the feelings he held for you weren't romantic.

But you knew you only felt that way because of what you'd done with him. And the truth was, it sounded like his feelings for you were the exact ones you felt for him.

Relief, you realized, was the indiscernible feeling filling you. Bittersweet relief.

You relaxed, offering him a grin.

"So you probably wish you'd spent the night with that other girl. Anika?"

"Anya. And trust me, I wouldn't trade last night for _anything,_ Princess."

You cocked a brow. "Really?"

"After _that_ performance?" he asked, letting his eyes trail the length of your body, the Knights' gear that was now covering you in comfort from head-to-toe. There was something in his eyes. Something wistful.

And you knew in an instant that he was reliving the events of fucking you.

But then, moments later, he snapped out of it, something pulling him back to the moment.

"That being said, seeing as last night can never happen again, I might....you know. Send her a holo. Invite her to Theed."

"Really?" you asked, blurting out your surprise.

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Of _course_ I wouldn't mind!" You smiled. Honestly, it kind of felt like you and Gil were maybe meant to be together in another life, just not in this one. So if you got to be married, albeit to a monster, it only seemed fair that Gil got his shot at a relationship as well.

Resolutely, he nodded. "Alright then. Maybe I will."

You smiled. He did, too. Seconds passed, seconds in silence, and then you were speaking again.

"Gil."

"Yeah."

"I think you're my best friend."

One corner of his mouth was lifted into a sly grin, his eyes dark but gentle. He said nothing.

Your brows lifted. "Oh, you're not gonna return the compliment? How incredibly rude."

He lifted his head and smiled, eying you with amusement and bewilderment. "I'd lay down my life for you. That's not enough?"

"No, that's boring."

"Oh, really?"

"Don't get all high and mighty on me. Tell me. Tell me you like me."

"You know I like you."

"Fine, then tell me I'm your best friend."

"I can't cheat on Rharo like that."

"Your Empress commands it."

Grinning from ear to ear, Gil leaned across the table, one arm folded over the other. "You know you'll always be 'Princess' to me, right?"

Defeated, you sank back into the booth, slinging your arms over your chest and looking away with a pout, thinking you'd heard the end of it.

"Princess?"

"What."

"You are."

━━━━━━*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ━━━━━━

When they arrived back on Naboo, Princess was quickly whisked away by Rharo and a small fleet of Sith Troopers; rumors of unrest in Theed were lost on nobody, and her security was of the upmost paramountcy. The good news was that an actual crowd would be shot down in an instant—literally. 'Troopers had clear orders on how to deal with even a whiff of insurrection. So did the Knights.

Gil had clear orders to report to Master Ren as soon as he returned from Coruscant, so it was essential that he felt comfortable with Princess's security while he was on missions, or in this case, errands. With the stirring rumors, he preferred to be with Princess at all times. But there was no one he trusted to protect her more than Rharo.

The Knight made his way towards Kylo's quarters. The castle was enormous and it wasn't a short walk. But Gil made brisk work of reaching the Emperor's private apartments. And with each step, he realized that he was actually... _nervous._

He'd done exactly as his Master had asked. There was no way all of this had just been a trap...right? But as Gil approached Master's rotunda, it occurred to him that perhaps this had been a test of his loyalty. If that was the case, he'd failed _miserably._ For a second, his heart plummeted to his stomach.

But no...no. If Master was going to kill him, he'd kill Rharo too. He'd been in on the plan the whole time as well. Besides, Master had gone to the lengths to give him rules. For example, neither of them were to cum inside Princess under _any circumstances._ Not to mention Master was so desperate for her forgiveness, there was nothing he wouldn't do to earn it, especially if he made himself repent in the process.

No. Master definitely wouldn't kill him.

Probably.

Just as expected, when Gil arrived, the Sith Troopers guarding the doors stepped aside and allowed him to enter.

The Knight swallowed thickly as he stepped inside. A sad attempt to quell the nausea mounting in his stomach.

Master was at his window, back towards the door. His hands were clasped behind his back—solemnly. But every muscle was held in taut formation. Gil could feel the anxiety and anger pouring out of the Emperor from across the room.

"Is it done?" Master snapped.

Gil stood uncomfortably in the doorway. Kylo didn't turn around,

"It is. I've done as you asked, master," Gil murmured solemnly. His voice was low, like he was only using half of his air. But it trembled with roughness.

Kylo straightened his back, but didn't turn around. He kept his gaze locked on the window, watching his fleet of TIE fighters circling the castle. Returning from rounds in the city, no doubt. Amid the unrest, 'Troopers were being sent for routine inspections.

"Good," Master murmured flatly.

His voice was curt and sudden, and made Gil twitch in response. Kylo could feel that, too. He could feel the fear, even though Gil had no reason to be afraid. Kylo had _asked_ this of him. He knew Gil didn't understand why, why he was able to ravage his master's wife. Why he was even allowed to _enjoy_ himself.

But it wasn't Gil's place to ask questions. And Gil knew that.

Kylo's jaw tightened, fists balling at his side. Gil took a preemptive step back, but didn't dare leave the room without his master's say-so. Kylo's gaze was glued to the fleet outside the window. He couldn't look anywhere else. Because if he looked at Gil, he would have killed him. Even though he had only done as his master had commanded.

Gil knew what was becoming before Kylo's hand flew to his belted saber. In an eruption of angry, red plasma, the weapon shot to life. And before Gil could even think, Kylo's arm was thrashing, bringing the blade down on a nearby end table. The chrome split in two, sundering under the weight of Kylo's arm, singing at the edges. As it toppled over, Kylo moved to one of the sofa, shredding it with repeated strikes. Soon, it was nothing but a frayed pile of fluff and dust.

Once his living quarters were significantly destroyed, the Emperor clicked the button on the side of his weapon. The plasma sucked into the hilt. Still heaving, he straightened his back, breathing heavily.

"Get. Out." Kylo's voice was low and trembling, but Gil didn't waste any time before whisking himself from the room. Once he was on the other side, retreating down the corridor, he could once again hear the muffled echo of a blade, the singing of plasma as it destroyed everything in its wake.


End file.
